#he is a cancer and this should have been taken into account much sooner if you ask me!!

[aion-rsa]

Endeavour Theory: Has Morse Already Crossed Paths With Nemesis Hugo de Vries?

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Warning: contains spoilers for Endeavour Series 7 and Inspector Morse episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’.

There’s a beauty to mystery that could hardly be lost on fans of Endeavour, a series with playfulness in its bones, as evidenced by its regular tips of the hat to pop culture and Morse creator Colin Dexter. The show’s viewers understand that ambiguities deliberately positioned as such should be allowed to stand, unaccosted by any fun-sucking need for certainty. We’re not here to unweave rainbows or clip angel wings.  

That said, Endeavour does love a game, and its fans love to play along. So while appreciating that some things are destined to rightly remain in the hazy hinterland of maybe, let’s play. The name of this game? Find Hugo de Vries!

Played by Ian McDiarmid in Inspector Morse Series 4 episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’ (1990), Hugo de Vries is a fan-favourite villain in the world of Morse. Erudite and cultured with a love of classical music, he has much in common with the detective, as is fitting for any two nemeses. A great difference of course, is that de Vries is a diabolical killer utterly without conscience. 

Ian McDiarmid as Hugo de Vries in Inspector Morse Series 4 episode ‘Masonic Mysteries’

In de Vries’ one and only Inspector Morse appearance, Morse finds himself framed for the murder of a woman from his choir, which is staging a production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute. After the murder, Morse finds almost £100,000 transferred to his bank account from the charity administrated by the victim. Morse’s personal file on the police computer is hacked to insert a fictional past event in which he supposedly attacked a woman, and his guvnor – McNutt at the time – covered it up. His home is set on fire, he’s pulled over and breathalysed after an anonymous complaint is made about his erratic driving, his Jag is vandalised with masonic symbols and McNutt’s dead body is discovered in his bathroom. All of it, realises an increasingly unhinged Morse, is the work of de Vries, who’s borne a grudge against Morse since his sergeant days.

Endeavour being the story of those very days, Inspector Morse fans have been watching the prequel closely for a cameo by the younger Hugo de Vries. After another ‘Masonic Mysteries’ character, Marion Brooke, turned up in Series 3’s ‘Arcadia’, Endeavour writer Russell Lewis was asked in this 2017 interview whether Endeavour would one day bump into de Vries. Lewis replied, “Each thing in its season. I shouldn’t be surprised to see him sooner or later.”

Jump forward four years to a post-Series Eight finale exchange on Twitter when Lewis is asked the same question. The writer’s answer this time is more playful. “Ah, Hugo. Who can say if he hasn’t already crossed our path? He might well have done, of course. On the other hand… ‘Now you see him, now you don’t. That’s de Vries all right’.”

Ryan Gage as Ludo Talenti in Endeavour Series 7

In the spirit of investigation, let’s assess the evidence. Is Lewis just teasing or has Hugo de Vries already crossed our path in Endeavour, namely in the form of Ryan Gage’s Series Seven villain Ludo Talenti?

That name alone may contain all the clue we need. Not only do Hugo and Ludo bear more than a glancing resemblance, but the latter in Latin is the first person of the verb ‘to play’. ‘I play… many talents’ would be an inelegant translation. A better one might include the possible allusion to Patricia Highsmith’s famous conman Tom Ripley, given the epithet ‘Talented’ in his first appearance. Like Ripley, both Hugo and Ludo are master manipulators who charm and inveigle their way to wealth, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. 

To jog the memory, Ludo recurred throughout Series Seven, initially presenting himself as a university contemporary of Morse’s who ran into him after Morse’s wallet was lifted at a garden concert (almost certainly a ruse designed to engineer the ‘accidental’ meeting). Ludo befriended Morse and the pair bonded over a shared love of opera. Ludo’s family is in shipping, he tells Morse, and he travels around raising money for their charitable fund, driven by a pursuit of music and beautiful women. 

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When Morse asks him which country he’s from, Ludo is coy, preferring to say he is a “man of the world.” He later tells a childhood story about life during Nazi occupation, which throws up various suggestions but like so much Ludo says, that could well be fiction. For what it’s worth, the saying he cites as from his country, “Do not praise a day before sunset,” is Polish. And what of Hugo de Vries’ nationality? Ian McDiarmid’s accent in ‘Masonic Mysteries’ is difficult to place, though the name is Dutch (borrowed from a famous botanist), and he faked his death in prison in Sweden. (Ludo incidentally tells Morse that he posed as a Swedish policeman on the phone once to track the detective down.) Ludo’s name, it’s revealed in the Series 7 finale, was taken from the gravestone of a 16th century priest on Venice’s San Michele cemetery island.

Ludo Talenti’s priest namesake revealed in Endeavour’s Series 7 finale

To tot up the similarities so far, that’s two criminals, of indiscriminate European origin, around Morse’s age, fluent in the language of classical music and opera, living under assumed names. Both also share a snobbish disdain for the police. Ludo expressed surprise that a man as cultured as Morse would be “a lumpen, plodding petty official” while Hugo sneered at Morse’s colleagues going about in pairs “like low comedians.” They also share a similarly rarefied, Bond Villain-ish way of speaking (Every man has his price, every man, I shall make it my life’s business to find yours,”), and express the same nihilistic attitude. “Life, death, rich, poor, it’s all a roll of the dice, Morse, there’s no reason to any of it,” says Ludo, foreshadowing Hugo’s words when he forces Morse to his knees at gunpoint in ‘Masonic Mysteries’. “He was clever, you see,” Inspector Morse tells Lewis in that episode, “he took one look and knew your weakness right away.” In Series 7, Ludo jokes to Morse that he will find his weakness and exploit it without mercy to his own ends.

What else? The nature of their crimes. In ‘Masonic Mysteries’ Morse tells Lewis that his past encounter with de Vries saw him con Oxford University out of millions of pounds. His scam had a kind of poetry to it – posing as the heir to a Swedish armaments manufacturer, de Vries proposed the building of an institute for peace studies. His later scheme involved stealing money from Marion Brooke’s charitable foundation to frame Morse. 

Paperwork from Ludo’s life insurance policy scam. Note the signature.

Ludo’s Series 7 scheme was less poetic, but of a similar flavour. He bought up life insurance policies of people looking for a quick pay out, killed them, cashed in, and disguised the deaths as freak accidents. One such victim was poor Carrie Bright, the cancer-suffering wife of ACC Bright. (In a rather baroque twist, the initials of the locations for each murder spelled out the name L.U.D.O.). Both men wore disguises to do their evil work – de Vries posed as a homeless man to murder Morse’s former guvnor McNutt, and Talenti posed as a healer to gain access to the Bright home and sabotage their Christmas lights, causing Mrs Bright’s death by electrocution. Note in the image above the name of the Executive Director of Ludo’s fake company ‘California Amenity Redemption and Disbursement’ (or C.A.R.D, perhaps another game-play reference…) in the signature on one of his victim’s letters: E. De Vere?

Hugo and Ludo didn’t work alone on their devilish schemes, they each had a female accomplice. Hugo’s was the aforementioned Marion Brooke, a devotee who shared his revenge obsession (Hugo’s the kind of man who makes women kick off their shoes and men open their chequebooks when he enters a room, Morse once told Lewis). Ludo’s was Violetta (played by Stephanie Leonidas), who started a passionate affair with Morse during his holiday in Venice. In the Series 7 denouement, Ludo says that he picked Violetta from the streets when she was 15 years old and “gave her the world,” forcing her to become his co-conspirator in the life insurance murders and the plan to make Morse his “pet policeman”. 

On the subject of having police officers in your pocket, Hugo de Vries’ association with Morse’s longstanding adversaries the Masons mustn’t be forgotten. De Vries taunted Morse with his masonic connections, through Mozart’s freemason-themed opera The Magic Flute. There’s no evidence that Ludo Talenti was involved with the freemasons yet, but Endeavour viewers know that they’re in full operation in Oxford at the time. 

Endeavour Morse attends ‘The Demon’s Wife’ opera in Venice

Endeavour and Violetta met at a performance of ‘La Sposa del Demonio’ in Venice, an operatic work by Endeavour composer Matthew Slater, which translates fittingly as ‘The Demon’s Wife’. Demons come up a great deal around Talenti and de Vries. “There speaks a devil sick of sin,” Ludo says to Endeavour. “There may not be a devil, but there’s devilry alright, and de Vries…” says Inspector Morse, walking away from Hugo’s burial and doubting whether or not he’s really in the coffin. (De Vries’ name, cryptic crossword fans can’t ignore, shares its first three letters with ‘devil’). And perhaps it just suited his complexion, but Ludo wears deep red numerous times in Series 7, perhaps in echo to de Vries’ burgundy shirt in his sole appearance. 

Speaking of that Venetian denouement, did Ludo not die after being shot by Fred Thursday and falling into a canal, putting the kibosh on the ‘Ludo is Hugo’ theory? Well, he was certainly shot, and he certainly did fall into the canal, but did he die, or did that devil live to return and torment Morse under a new name in future adventures? You’ve heard the evidence. What’s your verdict?

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Endeavour Series 8 is available to stream on ITV Hub and Britbox.

The post Endeavour Theory: Has Morse Already Crossed Paths With Nemesis Hugo de Vries? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[daphneallard]

of good samaritans & pawns

@diveronarpg submitted:

DIANA has managed to establish a Robin Hood-esque reputation for herself among the Capulets and make it look graceful, even when confronted with more difficult decisions. It just so happens that a week ago, a Capulet soldier reached out to DAPHNE looking for financial aid on her part, begging for help in getting out of the city and away from the mob that they’ve both dedicated their livelihoods to. This sort of thing does not occur often, and could give her a significant advantage or a severe shortfall. What does DAPHNE do?

MENTIONED: @lavolumnia, @reginadalys, @dukemassetti, @stlapin, @la-bella-falco

TW: death, violence, grief, dark themes

There are approximately 590,452 things Daphne Allard doesn’t know about Luca Caprio, but here are five in particular.

1. His sister’s name is Marta; they’ve barely spoken in three years. Not because of anything serious, but Marta lives in Berlin and the two have just never found the time to put in the effort. 

2. When he was seven, he wanted to take over his grandfather’s bakery. It burned down when he was 14. The arsonist’s were never caught, but everyone whispered that his nonno had offended a Montague of some power and status.

3. Luca went to university in Milan.

4. He professed not to care about astrology, but he knew he was a Cancer Sun, a Leo Rising, and a Scorpio Moon because a date made him check. After he showed her his co--star account, she went to the bathroom and never came back. 

5. He deserved better.

Actually, she knew that last one. Counting that, Daphne knew precisely ten things about Luca Caprio.

1. LUCA IS A CAPULET. 

A soldato, more specifically. Daphne was hosting a small get-together for the initiates and soldiers. A sort of networking opportunity, if you will. A chance to feel like family. That was how this city worked – blood ties and bloodied ties, invisible strings wrapped around every citizen’s throat. It was a reminder that everyone in this city is connected with a vice grip. 

They were only able to do what they did because people felt like they were getting something in return – a mirage of a family, if you will. But Daphne wasn’t truly cynical – it was good for them to spend some time together outside of work. Make each other feel less alone. 

She didn’t remember Luca very well. He hadn’t been quiet because she’d gone and put a friendly arm around the wallflowers and made them feel welcome, and she would’ve remembered him. He hadn’t been particularly loud, because she would’ve remembered him. He ran in the middle, and he seemed happy enough.

Daphne remembered he wasn’t an initiate though. “I’m a soldier,” he’d told her when she asked, not in the least offended that she didn’t remember him. “I ‘graduated’ after the Castelvecchio blew up.” 

Before they count continue their conversation, Elisabetta – a lanky, freckled initiate, barely 19 – gathered up the courage to speak to her. “Signora Allard, can I speak to you in private?” The muscles in her shoulder tensed up, like she was expecting to be slapped. Daphne had told Luca she’d catch up with him later – she wanted to know everyone, and said it in a way that convinced everyone, even Daphne herself, that it was true, and to come to her if he needed anything – and pulled Elisabetta into a spare room. 

In which she’d promptly burst into tears. She needed help – an orphan with no family and no fortune, a cruel landlord who let her apartment become infested with cockroaches and threatened to evict her, and could Daphne help her? Of course, darling. That’s what I’m here to do. 

Daphne hired someone to break the landlord’s legs and gave Elisabetta the downpayment for a newer, nicer apartment, and a day job as a barista at a cafe her father invested in. Just something to help you get settled, until you decide what you want to do for your day job. No, no need to pay me back. This is a gift, Elisabetta. When you decide what you want to do, let me know and I can put you in touch with people. 

2. LUCA BELIEVED IN GOD

The boy was Catholic. He believed in the rituals. He was spiritual, too. Luca managed to find the balance that many spent their lives in fruitless pursuit of. His eyes lit up when he talked about it – something about how he saw himself as a prodigal son – and sure, Daphne thought it was a little naive, but perhaps that was her own envy. 

She could never feel at peace with the Heavens – and not just because of the blood and poison and atrocities hidden underneath a kind smile and an impeccable reputation. Whatever was in the skies, whatever or whoever governed the universe didn’t care for mortals who tried to fashion themselves as folly. 

Her heart sang when he’d shyly brought up that he heard what she did for Elisabetta, who mentioned to him that she’d done something similar for a Vittorio, for Massimo, for Charlotte, for Honoria, and so-on and so-forth. “You’re like a Good Samaritan,” Luca said. Daphne liked that.

Good Samaritans don’t want their pound of flesh, though.

She became concerned about Luca, though. Believers were difficult, and in all honesty, Catholic guilt was going to catch up with him sooner or later. 

The worries started after they’d gutted that spiare in the Cathedral. Her name was Valentina Gallo, and she mattered to someone, but the only memory Daphne had was of her bleeding out in the hallowed halls. It’s quite cruel, for the only memory you have of a person to be the light dimming from their eyes. 

Luca had been late to a few meetings, and his captain had complained to Daphne – not anything specific, only in passing. Daphne had assured them that she’d take care of it. She’d check in with Luca. He seems like a good soldier. He seems like a good man. 

3. LUCA CAME TO HER

She didn’t need to find him. He’d knocked on the door to her office and asked if she had time for a word. Daphne didn’t, but she smiled anyways and invited him inside, offering him his choice of water, coffee, or tea. Good seeds get overrun by weeds if they’re not taken care of. 

“Do you remember Elisabetta?”  Luca asked. 

Daphne nodded. Of course she did. She could never forget the face of a person who owed her their happiness. “Of course. She’s just started an apprenticeship at All That Glitters.” 

He wrung his hands. “Good, good. That’s good.”

She poured him a glass of water and placed it in front of him. “Drink, I insist. You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I might be.” 

But he drank the water and didn’t vomit all over her carpet. 

“I’m glad you came to see me, today. I’ve heard some colleagues express concern about you. It’s been....a long few months for all of us.” She brushed her hair out of her face, “Can I do something to help? Even if you just need to talk, I want you to know that I’m here for you.” 

4. LUCA DIDN’T LIKE BEING A CAPULET

But only because he told her. 

“I don’t like being a Capulet.” That was the most confident she’d ever heard it. Not a doubt in his mind. She could see it in his eyes that he meant. 

“Oh,” was all she could say. What else could she do? After a moment, Daphne got her wits about her and knitted her fingers together. “Is there something in particular that you don’t like?” 

“All of it. Well, not all of it. I -- it’s complicated, you know?” Daphne nodded, because she did. “But when I joined, I thought I would be doing something good for the city.”

To that, she was quick to respond. “You are.” 

“How?”

“The Capulet’s are involved with a number of charitable organizations – we’ve helped more than a few local businesses get on their feet and stay on their feet through hard times. I personally work with several local women’s shelters. If you want to do more work in that field, than you’ve certainly come to the right person. Here, let me --” 

He’d cut her off, “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters when we do things like what we did in the Cathedral.” Daphne fixed with a stony look and Luca stopped talking mid-sentence. “Sorry, Signora Allard. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

She softens, because Daphne isn’t cruel and that’s what he needed to see – that this work doesn’t make as monsters. “It’s alright, Luca. Really. I’m here to listen.” She takes a deep breathe. “You’ve made a vow to the Capulet’s, Luca, and the particular vow you’ve made....it’s not an easy one to break. I understand that you’re scared and frustrated and, well, horrified by what you’ve seen. We all should be. It’s normal, you know, for newer members to get cold feet.” She twists her engagement ring around her finger. “Like a bride before the wedding.”

“It’s more than jitters,” he says, desperate to make her understand. “I’m telling you that I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t.” She puts her hand over his, and gives it a squeeze. 

“I understand.” She said it with her whole heart.

“Can you help me then?”

5. WHEN LUCA MADE UP HIS MIND, IT WAS MADE

Daphne didn’t give an answer to his last question. Instead, she’d asked what exactly he was asking of her. How much have you thought about this, boy? How badly do you want this?

“There’s someone I know in Rome who can help me get the papers to start a new life.”

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“Athens, Berlin, or Marseilles – you went to school there, didn’t you?”

“Those are all rather different. I went to school in Paris, but I spent quite a lot of time in Marseilles. It’s beautiful. You would like it.” 

“After that, I would need help getting housing and a job. I’d also need my identity scrubbed – I, uh, I don’t know what I should do there. Faking my death is an option, but that seems a bit much.” 

“And you would what me to contribute financially?”

Luca nods vigorously. “Yes – about €60,000.” Daphne doesn’t blink at the sum; that’s mere change to the Allard fortune and to all of her personal investments.

“That’s a pretty penny,” Daphne says. She’s not talking about the money. She’s talking about the task. “Luca, this conversation – I’m more than happy to let this stay between us and do everything in my power to help you feel comfortable with your position in the Capulet’s, but if this is serious and it comes out that I knew someone was consider desertion....” 

“This can’t be the worst thing someone’s done in Verona. Orsino, Reagan, Cosimo, Volumnia, Iago, Othello, Lady Macbeth –  This can’t be the worst thing anyone’s been asked.” Oh, you darling, sweet, stupid boy. “You’ve helped others who needed...a higher price tag, though. I --- I wouldn’t ask unless I was serious. And I’ve thought about, signora. This is what I need to do. I need to leave this city, even if I have to bury Luca Caprio to do it.” 

“I see how much this means to you, but --” His eyes widen like a deer stuck in headlights. His arm twitches, and he almost reaches for his gun, but steadies himself. “Don’t worry, I’m going to help you, Luca. Of course I am. It’ll just take some time for me to get the funds in order and distribute them to you secretly and safely.” 

6. LUCA’S SMILE WAS BLESSED BY THE HEAVENS

Don’t worry. I’m going to help you, Luca. The boy audibly exhales and slumps in the chair, almost trembling. It’s then that she notices how deep the bags under his eyes are. Some bodies aren’t meant to bare the weight of the world – or their decisions – on their shoulders, Daphne thinks sadly. 

Then, he starts laughing and smiling and crying – but it’s all happy tears and relief. His smile makes Daphne wish she was as good of a person as he thought her to be. “A Good Samaritan,” he mumbles, still trying to process everything. “You’re a rare breed in Verona.” 

Daphne thinks of the Capulet ranks – how many twisted and lied and killed for no reason other than their own personal gain, or their own ego’s. She thinks of everyone in Verona who looks at life like a chess game – rook takes bishop, protect the queen, pawn to queen, sacrificial pieces. Those who shuffle the board so that it suits whatever their interests are. Daphne’s one of them, and she knows it, even if she’ll never admit it. I wish I was a rare breed, Luca. 

7. LUCA DECIDED ON BERLIN

Three days later, Luca’s captain lets her know that he’s been on time and that he seems like the soldier is back on track. “What changed?” Daphne had asked. “I don’t know,” the captain admits. “He said he talked to you, so I guess whatever you said helped.”

Later that evening, Luca returns and asks her how long it will take her to get everything together. “A few more days, at least. Have you decided where you’re going to go?”

“Berlin.” He says it with such conviction, and Daphne is scared to ask what made him decide to go there, lest it make her miss the boy too much. “How long will it take to get everything ready for me to go to Berlin?”

“Two days. I have a good friend there, actually. She’s good. Very discreet. And she owes me a favor. I can give you her address? That way you know someone in the city, at least.”

“That’d be perfect.” 

“What’s the name of your Rome contact? The one who can help you get new documents?”

“Alessandro Marino...do you know him?”

Daphne nods, “By reputation, primarily. As far as people in his field go, Alessandro is one of the more...ethical ones. You’re in good hands with him.”

8. LUCA CAPRIO WAS GOING TO CHANGE HIS NAME TO LUKAS SCHMIDT

"How quickly can Alessandro get you the new papers?” 

“I’ve already paid him half.” Off Daphne’s quizzical expression, he adds, “It cost all my savings. After I told him I was good for the rest and that you were helping me --” Idiot, Daphne thinks. “-- he’s agreed to messenger me the documents by the end of tomorrow.” 

“Are you still going to be called Luca?”

“No, something similar though. That’s what’s best, right? In the movies, they always give someone a fake name that’s close with their real name so they don’t get confused.”

“Daphne, Diana. Bernadette, Bianca. Vivianne, Volumnia. Same practices goes for the aliases here. It makes sense. What’s the name?” 

He hesitates. “Schmidt. Lukas Schmidt.”

“Pleased to meet you, Signor Lukas....did you tell anyone else?”

“Of course not. I’m not an idiot.”

9. LUCA BELIEVED IN DAPHNE ALLARD

She didn’t need him to tell her. She could see it in the way that he looked at her adoringly, like she was a guardian angel. A Good Samaritan, he’d called her. A Good Samaritan, he thought her to be. A Good Samaritan. A good person. 

There was something good in Luca that didn’t exist in Daphne. Something normal about him. He lived by a different set of rules that she couldn’t even begin to fathom, and she knew that. Luca was a good boy. She doesn’t know why she keeps calling him a boy when he’s 25 years old.

He is good. Not wise, but good. And good people always pay their debts. With this, he would owe her everything – his freedom, his happiness, his life. This kind of power, this kind of debt was the most powerful. Daphne could get him to do anything in the future. 

This was why she became a Capulet. To help people. 

It was quite a pity, though, that by the nature of this arrangement, the only thing Daphne couldn’t ask him to do was stay. 

10. LUCA DIDN’T SEE IT COMING. 

The second he asked her to help him leave, Daphne knew she would sign his death warrant. After he told her that he told Alessandro that she was helping him, Daphne knew she would need to oversee a larger clean-up operation. It wasn’t worth the risk. No matter how well she did the money, someone would find it. Her name and reputation wouldn’t protect her. And Daphne was many things, but she was not a fool.

It appeared that Luca was true to his word in that he told no one else about his decision to leave. That was the conclusion Daphne came to after using the Capulet pipeline to find a hacker who gave her access to his phone, computer, and all CCTV footage. No text messages, no phone calls, no late night meetings in his apartment or anywhere else in the city. Of course, as a precaution, she’d gotten someone – someone loyal – to trail him just to make sure. 

Daphne Allard was no Good Samaritan. She was a Capulet. 

Luca couldn’t have known that. Daphne didn’t want anyone to know of the rot inside of her. This decay was her problem, and no one else’s, and both she and the city had bigger problems than this. No one needed to know.

Daphne had informed his captain and the appropriate higher up’s of the upcoming defection. No one needed to remind her that the cost of treason was death. She remembered the Gallo girl’s fate.  No, I’ll take care of the details, she offered. He came to me, so I will deal with it.

He comes to see her before he departs. She tells him she’s wired the money to his new account. She hasn’t. She kisses him on the cheek, before sending him on his way. Luca Caprio doesn’t make it two miles out of the city before a masked assailant shoots him in the back of the head. 

It was a quick, clean death, Daphne tells herself, as she pays the hitman handsomely for the cleanup of Luca Caprio, Alessandro Marino, and the messenger who made the mistake of delivering the documents.

This is mercy, she thinks. This way he and his family get to keep his dignity and the Capulet’s are spared the embarrassment.

She helps pay for his funeral, but doesn’t attend. Daphne doesn’t know this, but when the priest informs Luca’s parents that everything has been taken care of, his mother wept and thanked the Lord. There’s still Good Samaritans in Verona, she had said through her tears. There’s still good. 

“If they ask, can I reveal their benefactor?” The priest had asked her when she stopped by to drop off the payment. 

“No, not this time, father.” She doesn’t see the benefit of having this family owe her. Maybe later, if it proves useful, she will reveal herself. But Daphne doesn’t see the advantage. Your son is dead and I paid for the funeral. The debt is paid. You owe me nothing. 

There’s a sixth thing Daphne knows about Luca: He died thinking well of her. It gives her comfort. It shouldn’t. But it does. 

Verona makes a different sort of monster out of everyone. This was the monster it had made of Daphne Allard. 

#&. muse | i will answer to knife #self para #tw death #tw dark themes #tw violence #i...have zero idea if i did this right #but ? uh #this happened? #tw grief

[alexthepartyman]

Fine Line

Chapter Six: I’m hopeless, I’m broken.

“Yeah?” Uncle Jason asks as Penelope comes in. 

“Thank you for the flowers. I know I can be challenging, but your work is appreciated. J. Gideon. I appreciate the appreciation.” I look to Jason with confusion. He didn’t get her those flowers...what? Who’s posing as Jason? “And btw, you’re not challenging. Well, no, you’re totally challenging, but you’re not challenging at all in a bad way. Sir.” She turns around and looks at the framed photos. “Hey, is this your family?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” 

“Nice. Hi, Jamie. How are you doing? You finally got off your crutches?”

“Working on it.” 

“Thanks again for the flowers. Hey.”

“Hey…”

“What the hell does btw mean?”

“By the way. Internet shorthand.” 

“You sent Garcia flowers?”

“No. You need something?”

“Missing child in Wilmington, Delaware.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Eleven year old Billie Copeland was last seen on the playground at four-thirty yesterday afternoon.”

“Isn’t there a thing that says we get notified immediately? Why wasn’t this reported sooner?” I ask.

“Yes, the Child Abduction Response Plan. What happened?”

“Well, there was reason to believe she was with her father. Her cell phone shows a call to him around the time of her disappearance.” 

“So they’ve since ruled him out?”

“He called the mother about an hour ago,” JJ answers. 

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t involved.” 

“He’s on his way to the family home, so you can talk to him there. The local police are now considering this a stranger abduction.” 

“Twenty hours later?”

“Long term stranger abductions of children Billie’s age are rare. They represent only half of one percent of all missing cases per year. But they are usually more likely to be fatal. Of the children that are abducted and murdered, forty-four percent die within the first hour. From that point forward, their odds of survival greatly decrease. Seventy-five percent are gone after three hours. Virtually all of them are dead after twenty-four.” 

“We’ve got four hours, then.” 

“Shall we go?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s been missing twenty-one hours.” 

“You should have let Derek drive, we’d have gotten here in fifteen minutes,” I remark. 

“We’re gonna go meet with the lead detective at the park where the girl was last seen.” Aaron drives away.

“We need to know everything that’s being done,” Jason says.

“I’ll find out what the press is running, see if I know any of them. We may need to manage what they put out. Jamie, be careful to stay away from the media, they’ll have a field day if they find out about you.” 

“Good. See what the uniforms know from the canvasses. Elle, I need you to be a liaison with the family.” 

“A liaison?”

“In a child abduction, the parents are likely to break down if we aren’t careful.” I move alongside them towards the house. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’re looking for a male in his mid to late thirties who drives a late-model green SUV. If anybody has seen anything suspicious, we have a hotline set up at the Wilmington Police Department. Billie Copeland is an eleven year old girl. The last time she was seen, she was in a blue track suit and a blue soccer uniform.” 

Mrs Copeland sniffs, turning off the TV. “They’ve been running that over and over again for the past two hours,” she says. 

“They just want to help find her, and running it over and over again, it may get to somebody who wasn’t watching before, somebody who might know something,” I explain, letting my arm shake. 

“The press wants to talk to me. I just...I don’t think I can face it.” 

“It’s best you follow our guidance.” 

“Why don’t you just tell us what happened?” Elle asks. 

“Um...I was focused on practice, and...Billie was...being a pain, as usual, she was giving me attitude. So I told her to run it off. I sent her away.” 

“That’s not your fault. There’s no way you could have known. Focusing on what we can’t control...that’s only going to make you feel worse. What’s done was done.” 

“How long have you been divorced?” Elle asks.

“Um...it’s been final for six months, but we haven’t lived together in over a year.” 

“Are you seeing anyone?”

She laughs, “Between work and Billie, when would I have the time?”

“Not one date? Any men coming over to the house?”

“I-I had a few casual dates after work, but they never came to the house. Billie still hopes that her father and I will get back together.” 

“How did Billie’s dog die, Mrs Copeland?” Uncle Jason asks.

“Uh...it was hit by a car two weeks ago. How did you know that?”

“Shrine in the room. Helps her grieve?”

“Her father did that for her.”

“They get along well?”

“Best of friends. She calls him every night, tells him about her day, asks about his. He’s a cancer survivor, so he takes time off from work, pulls her out of school for father/daughter field trips. Says we all need to stop and enjoy life. But he forgets that he has responsibilities, they both do, which makes me the bad guy. And she blames me for the divorce. Blames me for everything...I shoulld have just let her go with her father. I’m sorry.” She gets up off the couch and storms away from us.

“She’s pretty fragile.” 

“The last thing she did was fight with her daughter. Can you imagine what that feels like?”

“Pretty terrible. Lost Jamie once, I had to rescue him.” 

“I thought that was Eddie.” 

“He was there.” 

“Elle, I was seven,” I tell her. Tires screech from outside. 

“Mr Copeland’s here.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I have been calling you all night!”

“I’m sorry, Marilyn, I turned my phone off.” 

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or…we needed you.” 

“I said I was sorry!” Mr Copeland walks back to us in frustration. “What’s being done to find my daughter?”

“We’re assessing that right now.”

“She’s been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!” 

“Where have you been, Mr Copeland?” I ask.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

“I have a cabin in Brandywine Valley.”

“Police tried you there.” 

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.” 

“Bille tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon.”

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.” 

“You didn’t fight your wife for custody of your daughter,” Jason adds. “But you...you like being in her life.” 

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around. This is the only place she’s ever lived.” 

“So you love her very much.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left? You weren’t at your cabin. You weren’t at work or with friends. Police didn’t call us until a little while ago because they though your daughter might have been with you?” I look to Mr Copeland, whose face screams disbelief. “That you might have taken your daughter. Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until -” Jason gets up and puts his face in his hands. “Would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns off his phone, disappears for almost twenty-four hours?” 

“I was...busy.”

“Not good enough,” I remark.

“It’s one thirty. You called your wife at eleven thirty, found out Billie was missing.”

“So?”

“Well, Brandywine Valley’s fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr Copeland?”

“I…I was at Sloane Kettering Hospital. In New York City. Dr Baylan Mahal is the head of oncology. You can call him if you want.”

“I will.”

“How long?” I ask.

“What?”

“How long do you have?” I ask. “It’s an inference. You mentioned oncology...only viable answer, your cancer came back.” 

“It’s in my lymph nodes now. You wouldn’t know what those are.”

“Immune system glands. Mine are messed up, too. Can they do anything more?” I take a seat in front of him, on the ottoman. 

“No. Please, find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

“Of course.” He puts his head in his hands and cries. 

“Call Sloane Kettering.” 

I look back as Jason leaves, Elle stands, and I extend a hand out to hold Mr Copeland’s shoulder. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You took all the police off the street?”

“We believe your daughter was abducted by someone in the area, and that she’s probably still nearby.”

“Then shouldn’t you be flooding the area with cops, knocking on doors?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is.” Mr Copeland pops his medication, and I pop mine, too.

“Youre taking the meds again.”

“Look...what exactly are you people doing to help get my daughter back?”

“You’re sick again, aren’t you?”

“We want you to meet with the press...both of you.”

“Elle…” 

“Press conference. That’s what you have? You just said you’re already taking the press that’s running off the air.”

“I know. But this will be different. Trust us, Mr Copeland.” The doorbell rings. 

“I’ll get it. Just tell Marilyn what you need us to do.” Elle sticks her hand out towards me, jarring me from gettin up and following him. 

“That was his second remission.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Billie won’t even talk to me anymore. How am I gonna tell her that her father’s sick again?”

“One thing at a time, Mrs Copeland. Once we find your daughter, you’ll figure it out.”

“Can I help you?” 

“Mr Copeland, I’m Helen Godfrey from a few blocks away. I have printouts of all the sex offenders in the area. I think if you just...look at any of these…”

“What the hell?” Elle asks, heading out of the house. I get up and grab my crutches to see Mr Copeland running to his car with a paper in his hand. “Mr Copeland?” 

“I’m really sorry,” I quickly apologise, walking out the front door.

“Mr Copeland!” Tires screech as the yellow truck pulls out of the driveway and heads off. 

“There are sex offenders in the area. I thought he should know.”

“Stupid,” Elle remarks, ripping her phone open. 

“Ma’am, I’d highly recommend leaving that to law enforcement,” I quickly advise, following after Elle. 

“Hotch, we have a problem.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr Jones isn’t interested in pressing charges,” Aaron says. 

“Am I supposed to be grateful? The bastard’s a pedophile.”

“Not all sex offenders are pedophiles,” I cut it. 

“Did you check up on him? Did you ever search his house>” 

“He solicited a prostitute. Nothing with kids.” 

“But he’s registered on-”

“Mr Copeland, please. There are at least a million different ways to get on that list.”

“That’s why accessing that type of information is supposed to be left up to law enforcement.” 

“We understand your frustration and your anger, but you’re jeopardising our efforts to save your daughter’s life. Every minute spent chasing you is time we’re not spending on Billie. So either get control of yourself and follow our directions or stay out of our way.” 

“What would you like us to do?”

“Make a public appeal for information regarding a witness driving a dark green SUV.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be the suspect?”

“Yes. But when people hear suspect, they can’t see the guy next door as a monster. They can’t imagine their neighbour doing something like that, because that’s not how they know them. If they’re a witness, they might be a hero.”

“Okay, but what if he thinks it’s a trick? What if he panics or thinks or it’s too risky, and then he-”

“You’re not just speaking to him. You’re talking to his neighbours, as well. Anyone who knows him.”

“We’ve done everything we can to relieve the pressure on this man. We’ve taken the cops off the street. You won’t have any standing with you on the dais. Only a local minister.”

“Hearing he isn’t a suspect might calm him down as well,” Aaron adds. “Right now he’s under enormous stress. And we need him to believe, even if it’s just for a little while, that we’re way off the mark, that we’re not close to arresting him.”

“Are you? Close to arresting him?”

“We need the public’s help.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If you keep looking at me like that, they’ll definitely notice,” I scold Derek. 

“I’m not too sure you should be off your crutches.” 

“How am I gonna be able to walk without them if I don’t try? Besides, it’s not like I’m going that far.” 

“Okay, come on.”

“Here they come.”

“Would you close the door? Thank you,” I hear JJ say from the stage. “Okay, can I have everyon’s attention? Please, if you could just take your seats...the Copeland family is here to make an appeal. As you all know, their eleven year old daughter Billie is missing. So if ou could just have a little compassion and patience. Mr Copeland.” I poke my head around the corner to watch the scene unfold with my own eyes. Mr Copeland sets up to the podium with his wife and the minister.

“Yesterday…” he clears his throat. I gently nod. “Yesterday, at approximately three pm, my daughter...our daughter…” The minster holds her hand. “Belinda Copeland. Billie. Went missing from the recreation center. We are looking for a man, a witness, in a green SUV. There have been some reports that he is a suspect, but that was a mistake. He’s not suspected of anything. We would like this man to come forward and tell us what he knows. We need your help. He may not even understand how important what he saw is. So anyone with information about this individual or his green SUV, please call the tip hotline. Thank you.” I smile up at him and give him a thumbs up. 

“Mr Copeland! Mr Copeland!” 

“We’d like Billie to come home now. It’ll be dark soon. Thank you.” 

“So the body located by police earlier today is not Billie’s?” My heart sinks to the floor, rage filling me, hot and deep. What the fuck? There was a body? There was a body? How did he even find out?! 

“What?” 

“The female body -”

“There’ll be no more questions. Thank you.” 

“What body?” 

“This press conference is over. Let’s discuss this outside.” I dart along the walls and find myself at the door out of the room, ripping it open for the couple to walk through. 

“What body?” 

“Come on, Mr Copeland. There’ll be no more questions. That’ll be all for now.” I look towards the cameras and the reporters. 

“Press conference is over,” JJ repeats. 

“Mr Copeland!” 

“What about Billie?” I look at the flashing photo lights and blink, closing the door behind the minister, and JJ goes up to one of the reporters. 

“Is that your idea of compassion?”

“I only asked a question. You’re the ones who didn’t tell the parents-”

“Because we weren’t sure. Raising and destroying hopes with inconclusive information is dangerous,” I cut in. 

“James.” I groan at JJ. “A positive identification hasn’t been made. Asking them about that was out of line, Hal.” She shuts up and drags me out. 

“Is there a body?!” 

“Please just come with me,” Elle begs. 

“Tell me right now, did you find a body?” 

“Mrs Copeland-”

“Did you find Billie? Is my daughter dead?” She asks. I reach up and let her lean on me. 

“A body was discovered,” Aaron answers.”

“It’s not Billie. The body that was found was much older, looked like it had been there for days. Looks like maybe a junkie or an overdose.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I saw the body myself. It’s not your daughter.” 

“My god, I can’t...I can’t…” 

“Please, just come with me right now,” Elle says, leading Mrs Copeland away as she cries. Mr Copeland follows them. 

“What the hell was that all about?”

“A reporter asked them about the body.” 

“Probably heard it on the scanner.” 

“I should have prepared them for that.” 

“We don’t have anything to tell them yet,” Jason argues. 

“Billie’s running out of time.”

“And so are the parents.” 

“Come on. A little hope, huh? We’ll make it, we’ll make it.”

“James, you’re not allowed to go up to reporters.” JJ scolds me as we follow Jason out.

“JJ, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. We have to be careful what we tell the media, or else we could get Billie killed.” 

“I know, JJ.”

“We haven’t even properly discussed what’s going to happen if they catch wind of who you are-”

“Minor consultant, working under SSA Jason Gideon of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Tell them that.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How’s it going?”

“The unsub’s in here somewhere.”

“If you can’t find sex offenders with green suvs, try anybody with green suvs.” 

“You gotta bet that the police talked to them in their initial canvass.” 

“Maybe not. Our unsub is a solitary individual. He isn’t the type of guy to insert himself into an investigation. Wouldn’t it make more sense that he wouldn’t have answered the door during the initial canvass?” 

“Neighbourhood was crawling with cops, canine units, search and rescues. Make him nervous and jumpy, he’d want to avoid them at all costs.” 

“Yeah, you could easily just pretend you aren’t home,” I add. 

“So then he couldn’t allow anyone into his home to ask routine questions, even if the girl was bound or gagged because it’d be too risky.”

“It’s next to impossible to control breathing, speech patterns, body language when the body’s under extreme duress. Maybe if we compare hotline tips with anyone who wasn’t at home during the initial canvass.” 

“Or didn’t answer the door.” 

“We’ll find our unsub.” 

“Let’s get to it. Jamie, here you go,” Aaron hands me a pile of files from Spencer’s work area. “Green SUVs, in the area.” 

“Got it.” 

“Sergeant.”

“Yeah?”

“Here’s what we need. Everything that come in here…”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yeah. It was worth a try. That’s right. Thank you.” Derek hangs up the phone. “Nothing.” 

“Agent Morgan?”

“Yeah?” 

“This the kind of thing you’re looking for?” 

“What is it?” I ask, pushing the chair out to get up. 

“Uh-uh. Crutches.” Derek scolds me, and I groan and set them up. “Reid.”

“A Mr Lomax has a neighbour with a green SUV, but he hasn’t seen him all day. Says that’s unusual. Thought he might have been out of town, but now he sees some lights on over there.” 

“1106 Springfield. Where’s our canvass sheets?” I grab them from a nearby table. “1106.”

“1100 block. 1106...no answer.”

“Let’s go talk with Mr Lomax. Nice call.” 

“Thanks. Good luck.” I look up at Spencer as we head out. 

“I am definitely not using these come Tuesday.”

“Tuesday? Why then?” Spencer asks.

“That’s when school starts up again, and I’m headed back on A/B weeks for the month.” 

“You should use your crutches for as long as you’ve been told to. You know, the correct way of getting off of your crutches is to go to physical and occupational therapy.” 

“Oh, come on. These things are annoying! I’ve been going since it happened!”

“Actually, it’s been one month and twenty days since your accident, and you started going to physical and occupational therapy a week after it, so you’ve been going for one month and thirteen days.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr Lomax?” Derek asks as we approach a man aggressively raking leaves in his yard. “Agent Morgan. Agent Reid. James Rossi. FBI.” The two men beside me pull out their badges, and I pull out mine that granted me access to the buildings. 

“Holy smokes, that was fast!”

“Did you call in a tip about your neighbour, Don Curtis?”

“Lives down the street. I saw the news thing, you know?”

“Yep. Green SUV?” I ask, spotting the car.

“Yeah. I was thinking...Don drives a dark green explorer, and he’s at the park all the time. I figured, like they said on the television, maybe he knows something but he doesn’t know that he knows it.” Or he’s our unsub, and he definitely knows he is. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, we do.” I look back towards the man. “Where’s his explorer now?”

“It’s usually in the driveway, but I haven’t seen it today. Haven’t seen Don either, which is kind of weird. We’re always out front talking about the lawns. He never has any crab grass.” I don’t know what that is, so. “I don’t know how he does it.” 

“Do you know if he has a dog?”

“Used to. A big golden retriever. Her name was Candy. I think she died like six months ago.” 

“Thanks, Mr Lomax,” I say, as we turn to walk away. 

“Yeah, Hotch. Morgan. Better get over here right now.” I swing myself forward, starting the walk down to the house. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Third house down on the right. We knocked on the door, but nobody’s answering.” 

“His neighbour said he’s definitely there.” 

“He’s got a green ford explorer in the garage.”

“Break down the door,” Jason suggests.

“No. We don’t have probable cause.” 

“You don’t think owning a vehicle that was used to kidnap a child is probable cause enough?” I ask the detective. “He’s got a green SUV, dog that died recently, spends time at the park.” 

“Pretending he’s not home.”

“None of which are illegal. No judge is going to sign a warrant based on that information.” 

“You’re weighing the life of a child against the price of a door?”

“I’m weighing the law against the price of a door.” 

“The girl’s in the house right now. The longer we stand here and wait, the longer he has to finish her off.” 

“I’ll call a judge. If we go in there without a warrant, all that evidence will get thrown-”

“No time!” I yell, bouncing up and down.

“We’re aware of the rules of evidence. What do you propose that we do?” 

“JASON!” I yell, throwing my crcutches off and running after the old man as he dashes to the house. 

“JAMIE!” 

“Gideon! Gideon, wait a minute!” Derek yells. “Gideon, Gideon, you need -” He gets cut off by the sound of glass, Jason hits the window with a potted plant, shattering it and climbing through the window. 

“FEDERAL AGENTS, FBI!” Derek shouts, kicking the door open and wielding his gun. I follow after everyone else, dashing down the hall after Jason, but stopping before rounding a corner. I pop my head out, spotting the open door at the end of the hall. Jason heads towards it, and I pull my pocketknife out of my bag and unfold it, preparing myself to attack. Derek rounds the corner with his gun in front. I pull back as Jason screams, a man walking out of one of the rooms. 

“Where is she?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hear a gun cocking.

“Where’s Billie Copeland?” 

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

“Gideon…”

“Please! Please put the gun down.” 

“Gideon!”

“Get him out of here!” 

“Let’s go. Let’s go.”

“TEAR THE PLACE APART!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Just as we expected, he has an extensive collective of deviant photos and cartoon downloads.”

“Partitioned in separate folders?”

“Yep.” 

“Access the internet history. Identify any pornographic sites, shut them down.” 

“We’re uploading to Garcia as we speak.” 

“What is this? Is it all porn?”

“It’s a lot of home movies with a bunch of kids in it. This one, you need to see it.” I keep my head down as the tape starts to play. 

“Ssssshh. Remember what I’ll do if you tell.” I shiver at the sound of the voice. 

“Gideon, we searched the entire house. Upstairs, downstairs. Everywhere. There’s no sign of the girl or that she’s even been here. It is possible that he moved her. Polly Klaas was found twenty-five miles from home. Danielle Van Damme, thirty, Samantha Runnion, fifty-two. But keep in mind...we were twenty hours late getting involved.”

“Man doesn’t take chances. He wouldn’t drive around with a girl in the car. He took her, got her off the street as quickly as possible. Just keep looking. Jamie, details.”

“I’m on it.” 

“You know, it’d be helpful if I knew exactly what to look for,” I comment. “We just have kiddie porn, and that can put him away for something...but it doesn’t help us find Billie.” 

“I know. Details, what does he mean by that?”

“Survey everything. Point out anything that catches my attention. Hey, is there, like an attic or a basement?”

“There’d be a door somewhere, or stairs.”

“Sometimes there isn’t. I remember being in a house...you got to the basement through a hole in the closet floor. You wouldn’t know it was there, it was covered up. I’m gonna get Jason.” 

“What kind of house has that?” Spencer asks.

“I don’t know. You know what he’s talking about?”

I walk down the hallway and head into the living room, where Jason is pulling something out of a broom. “What’s that?”

“Insulation. What did you need?”

“I was thinking...is there a basement or an attic? Sometimes, there will be patches in the floor or the ceiling, and when you take out the patches, there’s the entrance.” I explain. “Didn’t he have insulation on him? Access point might be in a bedroom or in the hallway.” 

“The hallway. Jamie, there’s a vent.” I turn around and head back the way I came, stopping under a vent in the ceiling with poofy stuff hanging from it. 

“You mean this thing?” I ask. 

“Yeah. That thing. Hotch, get me up there.” 

“Here, take my crutches, I can get up there. Jason, help me.” I take off my crutches, letting them clank on the wooden floor under us and jump into Jason’s arms, opening the vent and hoisting myself up from there. “Jesus Christ, I’m heavy.” 

“You’re just out of shape. Alright, thanks, Hotch. Jamie’s already up there. Jamie, look for Billie.” I nod, crawling away from the hole and looking around, spotting a girl with a bright pink arm cast. “She’s here.” I crawl towards her, unwrapping the tape from aronud her mouth. “Sssh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Jamie. We’re gonna take you back to your parents. You’re safe now. Is your arm hurting?” I ask. 

“I wanna go home.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Billie. My name’s Jason. Jamie and I are gonna take you home.” 

“Can she get to a doctor afterwards to check on her arm?” I ask. 

“Yeah, maybe. Your mommy and daddy are very worried about you.” 

“I wanna go home,” she pants. 

“Let’s go see your mom and dad, huh?” Jason undos the rest of her bindings takes her in her arms. “Oh, I forgot. I took this for luck.” He gives her something. “Let’s bring it back to where it belongs, okay? Let’s go see your mommy and daddy. Jamie, go down after her. Hotch! Here she comes. Here you go, sweetie. Watch your arm.”

“Thanks, for not getting mad at me.” I say as he lowers her into Aaron’s arms. ‘Watch her arm.”

“What did you even do?” I chuckle at his obliviousness. “Watch your arm.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I got absolutely nothing.” 

“Aw, nothing.” 

“Ssss…two pair…” Spencer hisses. “Of aces…”

“Oh, get out of town! Why you always winning? Nuh-uh!” 

“Cause he cheats!”

“Poker. It’s mathematics, it’s statistics.”

“Which explains why I’m horrible at it,” I comment. “I don’t think I had anything either.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“He’s from Vegas.”

“House rules.”

“There’s that, too.” 

“Alright, shuffle.” 

“Give me a card,” Derek demands.

“Hey, Hotch,” Jason asks. 

“Yeah? He can play poker, we’re not using actual money.”

“It’s not that. Not even his dad can teach him to play.” 

“Uncle Jason!” I exclaim.

“It’s true. Did you send flowers to that tech girl...Garcia...and say they were from me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Jason, people need to know that they’re important, and sometimes you forget that.” 

“I already sent her a gift.” 

“What? Jamie, you didn’t tell me.”

“Well, maybe you should ask,” I remark. 

“Oohh, boy got some sass.” 

“It’s his dad. Dave can be blunt. What did you get for her, Jason?” 

“An MP3 player. Jamie helped pick it out. They last longer. Unless you drop them, or the battery dies, whichever comes first.” 

“So, she got two gifts.”

“What if she thinks I’m sweet on her?”

“I’ll talk to her.” Elle gives a funny look that makes us all laugh.

“Give me cards,” I say.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #adoptedbydavidrossi #fine line

[channiespeach]

Love, Chan

genre: college! fluff! angst! best friends to lovers! bang chan au ~gif: @felixynthesis

word count: 4934 

prompt: sorta a spin off from the English film ‘Love, Rosie’ (this is my favorite movie ever, highly recommend!). Chan befriended you your first year of college, him being an upperclassman and majoring in psychology as well. The two of you met during a heated class discussion about abortions and hit things off from there, becoming the closest of friends. Unfortunately, keeping no more than the title of being his ‘best friend’, never prevented you from falling helplessly in love with your best friend. One night, you and Chan went to a party together, in which resulted to Chan getting intoxicated and kissing you. Before you could confess your feelings to Chan based on the previous night’s occurrences, he ended up getting into a relationship. The two of you went on pretending that, that night never happened and you pushed your feelings further underneath the rug. 

~

Don’t cry, you’re a bad bitch. You should’ve known this would come sooner or later, you put yourself into this trap by falling for your bloody best friend!

“I’ve always thought that of all people who’ll support me, you were always one of them” Chan’s fist aggressively hit the alleyway’s brick wall, beside your head. “I was wrong” He chuckled bitterly. Sweat was trickling down his collar bones, evidently from the loose black material of his low cut t-shirt. His lips were pressed together in a tight line, veins protruding all over the place. His eyes were glossed, beaming with redness and his breathing was sporadic, his movements fidgeting. I knew better than anyone when he’s angry, presently being no different. 

“I support you more than anyone in your entire fucking lifetime ever could and you’re damn aware of that!” I scoffed defensively at his remark. “There’s a difference between being supportive and looking out for someone” I spoke calmly, choosing my words carefully so things won’t be taken out of context. I kept a confident composure, straightening my posture and initiating eye contact, showing that I’m not intimidated by him in the slightest. 

“Don’t be pulling the superhero card on me!” Chan threw his head back dramatically, laughing menacingly.  “Because if that was really the case, then why do you feel the need to constantly butt yourself into my personal life? I’m allowed to have relations with others outside of our friendship and I don’t need your approval” I must admit, that stung and left a flavor of distaste in my mouth. He made it seem as though I was controlling every aspect of his life, when it’s been far from. I’ve always been so selfless when it comes to him, in fact. I’ve stayed up for ungodly hours helping him prepare special songs to please her and I’ve gotten up past the dead of night to go over and console him until he was sane enough, whenever they’d have fights. I’ve always been nothing but dependable to him and listened to the dysfunction his dear heart pelted.  All this has never left the most beneficial mark on my emotional state, but I’d rather keep him happy than myself. For awhile now, I’ve come to an understanding that I’ll never be her. She’s the center of his universe, the blue in his eyes, and the air he purely breathes. I could never compete with that. Although, such things have never kept me from being someone he can always rely on. It’s always been my duty as a best friend.

“Do you know how ridiculous you’re sounding right now?” I took a step closer to him, crossing my arms. “Why do you stoop so much lower than what you deserve, Channie?” I croaked, my voice softening and losing some of its tranquility. I’m not going to cry, not in front of him at least. Save the water works for when you get home.

“Only my real friends get to call me that” He sneered at me. I lost my cool from there, as much as I’d let my heavy heart be continuously outweighed by him. One thing I couldn’t stand any longer is watching my best friend get hurt, him being fully unaware of her motive. The boys even agreed with me, so I wasn’t the only one seeing this. It was time I put my foot down and if he can’t even handle the truth put to him gently, then there’s no other way. 

“God! How can you be so in denial?” I groaned exasperatedly, dropping my arms to my sides and balling them into fists. Before he could interject, I cut him off, “No, it’s time you listen to me for once! I’ve been nothing but a true friend to you, even though you’re saying either wise. I’ve never been taken into accountability for how much I do for you. Are you aware of how much sleep I’ve lost over you in the past just to make sure that you’re okay? I’m not complaining because I’d do it all in a heart beat for you over and over again” I took a shaky breath, continuing, “And the fact that you’d take her word over someone whose wanted nothing but the best for you for over three years, when you’ve only known her for a few months? Chan, she’s just stringing you along, as well as many others. It’s time for you to stop caring so much for others and allow yourself to be taken care of” 

“I’m in denial?” He scoffed. “You’re just hung up from when we kissed at that stupid party. The only person you’re looking out for is yourself! You can’t stand me being happy with someone else that’s not you and never will be you. You’re so fucking selfish!” He spat at me, before saying the seven most hurtful words in existence, “I’d choose her over you any day” Next thing I knew, I slapped him. I lost all sight of myself, but I was far from caring at this point. 

“Fine. You no longer have to deal with the burden of feeling like I’m restricting you from associating with the outside world anymore. Congratulations!” Giving him a disdainful smile, I allowed the pools of tears to spill down my cheeks, before turning away from him. For a second, I could’ve sworn his expression softened, but it was too late because I’d already left. 

☾  3 years ago

“It’s true that abortions are one of the single most disgusting things humanely possible, but that doesn’t always mean that whoever chooses to pursue the procedure are all insensitive human beings” I argued. 

“Doesn’t mean that some of them can be. There are options, such as adoption if the parents can’t be responsible enough to raise the child themselves” The fluffy blond, whose been debating with me for the past 20 minutes, stated. It’d be an understatement that I was attracted to him. He was courageous, thought carefully before speaking and was confident with how he held himself up. Not to mention, he was cute. His wavy, bleached hair was messily sprawled across his head, framing the front of his face, looking similarly to a stem of broccoli. But, gave his exterior a cute puppy dog look. He was not too tall and not too short, but still towered over me a decent amount. He was fixated in an over-sized grey sweatshirt (did I mention guys in grey sweatshirts are my weakness). He had the fullest blushed lips I’ve ever encountered, which were always concocted into the most beautiful smirk. Other times, he was smiling so bright that it could cure cancer itself. Goddamn, was I swooning and there was no doubt about it. I’ve noticed him around plenty of times, since we’re both majoring in psychology and taking similar classes. But, I was too scared to act upon anything. But, of course I’m going to keep my guard up until I win this damn debate. Yes, he may be cute but, he’s not getting away with it that easily. Nothing gets in the way of my snarky attitude. 

“You have a point. I agree that having an abortion is an inexcusable act, but what if the father is an abusive nutcase who’d refuse to sign the adoption papers or something and the child would be forced to be had in a hostile environment? This world’s a cruel place, after all. I agree with you that adoption should be the main verdict, instead of an abortion. Although, I can’t come to terms with you that anyone who decides to go through with the operation are all insensitive people because there could always be more to it” I took my time to present my argument in a time manageable manner, so the discussion would be closed by the time class is dismissed and no more additional comments could made. 

“I’m Chan” The flimsy blond introduced himself, extending out his hand to me and flashing me a dimply smile. & that’s how all great things aligned. 

☾ almost 1 year ago

“No way, you’re high! I’m not going to a party the weekend before finals. That’s outrageous!” I exclaimed, opposed to Chan’s proposition. 

“Y/N, you’re such a drag! Won’t you loosen up for just this once and live a little?” Chan groaned, giving me the most displeased look imaginable. 

“Absolutely not! You do understand how important this graded debate is, right? I have so much preparation and notes to work on, yet. Unlike you, I actually want to get far in life” I scoffed at his nonsense and he chuckled lightly at my persistence, throwing his head forward cutely. 

“You do realize how important this party is for me right? It’s being thrown by Changbin, meaning it’s going to be the party of the year and there’s going to be so many hot girls there!” He emphasized dramatically, making his argument more unappealing. My heart stopped for a second from the mention of other girls, making me despise going even more. 

“Then just bring one of those other bitches, instead. I’m not going!” I snapped at him, shoving all my materials in my bag, aggressively and stomping out of the library. I understand I’m being temperamental for no reason, but is he fucking serious? Is he really going to torture me like that and drag me to a party to hustle other females, in fucking front of me? Even though, he’s completely unaware of my feelings towards him, but still! 

“What’s up with you? Are you on your period or something? Goddamn!” He scampered in front of me, in response to my abrupt movements. I gasped in astonishment, preparing to continue my angry march. “Wait! I really want you to go. I want nothing more, but for you out of anyone else to accompany me tonight” He pleaded, placing his hands atop my shoulders to stop me in my tracks. I huffed, fixating my bag’s strap on my shoulder and shook off his touch. Before I could argue, he cut me off, already knowing what I’m about to say, “Enough with the damn debate, Y/N. Just wing it! You’ll do great, I have faith in you” He cupped my cheeks, smooshing them both together, continuing. “Pretty please, Y/N? Your best friend needs you, please help him” His eyes twinkled at me, smiling down at me irresistibly. He made it nearly impossible for me to say no with those damned dimples of his, unfair. 

I tilted my head slightly to look up at him and dropped my shoulders, debating internally with myself. Being the weak bitch I am, I gave in, “Fine, but I swear to god, Chan, if you make one more comment about my period again, deal’s off!” He smirked and nodded, in response to getting his way. “By the way, you’re in charge of bringing the bottle and whatever the fuck else” I deadpanned, poking his chest with my pointer finger. I made sure to keep my hard ass composure to show he didn’t fully one up me, even though he’d had, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“You got it, hard ass” He saluted me, draping an arm around my shoulder. “For a second there, I could’ve sworn you were in love with me or something” Oh fuck you, you piece of shit. 

“That’s the most outrageous thing you’ve said all day” 

-

Luckily, Chan didn’t hustle any girls at the party like I thought he would, but got piss drunk not even an hour in, instead. Boy, is he lucky I have mom like instincts. Unfortunately, I was tipsy myself, so I wasn’t thrilled to have to babysit him. So, we ended up leaving, when I was a few drinks in. As much as I wanna tell myself I’m mad at him, I’m relieved we left before the drunk hoes could acknowledge his beauty. Leaving the party itself was a bitch, he was practically draping over me, giving off an illusion we’re together. Shit, I wasn’t complaining though.

“Y/N, you have to listen to me!” Chan exclaimed loudly, when I shoved him onto the bed.

“Channie, you should really get some rest. It’s been a long night and you’re drunk” I spoke in a hushed voice, seating myself on the edge of Chan’s bed. “You know, you’re not as light as you look” I teased him, rubbing my sore blades. 

“But Y/N, I just want to tell you how much I love you and appreciate you for always taking such good care of me. You’re the best, best friend I could ever have!” He continued his loud administrations, but I couldn’t help but giggle softly at how cute he’s being.

“I love you too Channie and I appreciate that and all, but you really need to lower your voice. You’re making a lot of commotion and we don’t need someone to make a call thinking someone’s getting killed or something” I shushed him, putting my index finger to his lips. 

“I love you more! You’re so pretty!” He chirped, keeping the same volume control and sat up along beside me from his laying position. I tilted my head slightly at him, baffled as he placed a hand on the farthest side of my face, his fingers dancing on my skin. My heart skipped a beat at his next move, he closed the space between us and intertwined our lips. Was I really kissing my best friend right now? I felt a surge of butterflies kissing me from head to toe and I was seeing the world in different colors. For me, this was a dream come true, but I was so confused as to why this all felt so right to me. I didn’t feel a sense of guilt kissing my best friend, unsure if he feels the same way about me. I felt at pure bliss and like I was at home, being entangled in his hold. In this moment, I realized that whether Chan loves me or not, he is my home. The kiss was nearly a peck and lasted only for a brief second, but I felt and concluded a lot in that short second, like the way his lips felt pressed with mine

“Will you lay with me until I fall asleep?” He spoke, looking at me with uncertainty. I couldn’t tell if it was because he regretted kissing me or if he’s scared I’ll tell him no. Whatever the reason, I felt my heart tear right down the middle. Did he not feel anything? “Please?” He begged in a small voice, breaking my thoughts. I’m trying my hardest not to feel this strongly about him, but he just makes things so hard. How could I not love him? It’s so selfish to love someone and expect them to love you back, if it’s unclear. Especially your best friend. I nodded, fixating myself beside him. I just can’t seem to tell him no, I’m weak when it comes to him, no matter how much I speak either wise. He pulled me by the small of my waist, molding our bodies so close together, that I was engulfed into him completely and could hear his heartbeat.  His head was snuggled atop of my chest with my chin rested on his scalp, and my fingers weaving through his frizzy curls. I continued my administrations, until he was coaxed to sleep. 

“Oh Chan, I think I won the argument for who loves who the most” 

I haven’t talked to Chan all weekend since the party, but it was fine since I had lots of preparation to do for exams. After all, being a student majoring in psychology is a lot of work. Although, as selfish as it sounds, I’m a bit disappointed he hasn’t tried to contact me. I knew sooner or later that I had to face my problems and confess, whether he reciprocated them or not. I couldn’t run and avoid my feelings towards him for forever, as much as I desired the idea. During the time span of being away from him, I’d decided that first thing after the class debate, I’m going to confront him. 

“Hey, Y/N” Chan approached me once class was dismissed, while I was packing up all my materials meticulously. “I just wanted to apologize for going MIA on you this weekend, I’ve been pretty busy and hungover as fuck” He chuckled deeply, his dimples kissing at his cheeks prominently. 

“No worries, Channie! I’ve been so busy studying for this debate to notice” I giggled at him halfheartedly, ruffling down his angelic locks. Lies. “Any who, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Would you wanna grab some coffee and catch up?” I finished, biting my lip nervously and kicking the toe of my sneaker out into the dirt. 

“Yeah! That’d be great actually. I’ve been meaning to tell you some news as well” Chan agreed, smiling so wide that angels were dancing around his face. “I’ll text you, okay? I just got some stuff to sort out real quick and I’ll meet you there later” He chimed cheerily, backing away from me before exiting the classroom, after I’d nodded in approval. My body froze up after he’d disappeared, was I blushing? I raised up my hand to my warm cheeks, in conformation, that I indeed was. 

channie: Meet you there at 5? Can’t wait to see you! :) me: ahahaha me too. see ya then!

Time flew by quickly and before I knew it, the clock already striked 4:45 pm. I checked myself in the mirror quickly, fixating the frizzy strands of hair falling out of my messy bun that had gotten stuck in my circular glasses, before heading out. 

Walking up to the cafe, I saw Chan seated in our usual spot by the window. A smile brimmed its way onto my features, my heart swelling at just the sight of the love of my life. Then, reality punched me in the face when a girl sat herself by his side. She had short hair with thin bangs and long features, overall she was beautiful. She was everything I’m not, of course he’d go for her. I felt tears well up into my eyes, cussing at myself for being so stupid. I dodged a corner before I could make eye contact with him and cried for a few short minutes, that felt like an eternity of heartbreak. I heaved, pulling myself together before entering the cafe, a smile forged on my face. 

“Y/N, you’re here! I was starting to get worried, you’re late” Chan greeted me, as I seated myself across from him. “I’ve been meaning for you to meet someone. This is my girlfriend, Yuri” Chan introduced us, continuing, “Yuri, meet my best friend, Y/N” 

“It’s so nice to meet you! Congratulations to the both of you!” 

I felt like I’d been shot.

☾ 3 months ago

I’d been awoken from my slumber to the ringer of my phone blaring mercilessly and its brightness illuminating my face. It can’t be time for morning classes already, it’s still dark and there’s no such thing as daylight savings here. I groggily reached for my phone, seeing a call from Chan. Has something happened?

“Hello?” I yawned. I heard sniffles and heavy panting on his side of the line. “What happened? Is everything okay?” I sat up alarmed, my voice losing its drowsiness and becoming coated with a thick layer of worry instead. 

“Y/N, I know it’s late, but, I-I just really need you right now. Can you come over?..” Chan sobbed. I only could make out snippets of what he said because he was crying like a bitch. 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. What time is it?” I rubbed my face, in attempt to wake myself up. 

“Almost 4″ He spoke shakily. My eyes widened in disbelief, pulling my phone away from my ear to check for myself. 

“Okay, I’ll be right there” I assured him, hanging up the call. 

I made it to the dorms safe and sound, making it over to Chan’s room quietly, being careful not to wake any of his roomates. I made it over to his form, curled up in a ball and his back faced towards me. 

“Aw Channie, please don’t cry! You’re really breaking my heart right now! Tell me, what’s the matter?” I cooed at him, cuddling up behind him and rubbing his back. 

“I really fucked up with, Yuri. I love her so much, I don’t wanna lose her” Chan turned around, facing me, eyes all red and puffy. 

“Don’t say that. How’d you fuck things up?” I wiped away the fresh tears from his eyes with the pads of my thumbs, pushing the lose stands of hair out of his face. 

“S-so, there was this guy hitting on her in front of me and he was being really disrespectful to her. Well, I ended up stepping in and saying something to him. She got really upset with me because she wanted to deal with it on her own and she said how I dealt with it was immature” He teared up, clouds ready to spur from his gloomy eyes. 

“What did you say to him?” I rocked him back and forth in my arms, speaking in a barely audible whisper. 

“Just to lay off and that she’s not interested” He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a broken sigh. Wow, what a lucky and ungrateful bitch. 

“Well, she’d be stupid to lose an amazing guy like you. I think you did the right thing by sticking up for her. It’s wrong she didn’t fend for herself right away, letting the guy know she’s in a relationship with you” I reasoned. 

“I shouldn’t have gotten so possessive of her and have been such a selfish asshole. She’s a grown woman, she’s more than capable of handling such things herself. I need to make it up to her” He shook his head, completely disregarding everything I’d said. 

“How are you going to make things up to her?” I questioned, blandly. My heart broke seeing him fall apart like this and blaming himself for everything. It’s like watching you’re entire world crumble to pieces. Even though, he’s fully unaware of this, he is my world.

“I don’t know. Write a song maybe? But, we have completely different music tastes, that if I do make her something, I’m afraid she won’t like it” Chan pulled apart from my grasp to lay on his back, staring up at his ceiling with emptiness. 

“She’d be dumb not to like it.  What are you waiting for? Let’s write a song for Yuri, together!” I faked a spontaneous tone, in order to motivate him. 

“You’d really help me write a song for her?” Chan sat up with me, smiling brightly at me. 

“I’d do anything for you, as long as you’re happy” I nodded at him. 

“You’re the best!” He jumped at me, hugging me in a tight embrace. 

I stayed up with him, helping him compose lyrics and listened to different beats that’ll best fit the song. He ended up overworking himself, falling asleep hunched over his laptop, when I checked up on him. 

I grabbed a blanket from his room and draped it over his body, before leaving for morning classes.  

☾  2 years later

Has anyone ever been in a situation that they don’t understand how the fuck they got into it in the first place? Well, that’s me right now. I’m currently at a speed dating event, which I have no clue why I thought would be a good idea. Maybe, it’s the fact that the love department has lacked since I’d met Chan, which was almost 5 years ago. I haven’t felt as strongly about anyone as much as I did for him, which sucks because it makes me sound like a complete wuss. I might as well go bury my love life and kiss it goodbye because I’d rather die alone than be here. Luckily, I have this glass of wine keeping me sane. Never in my life have I felt more like one of those single moms who cries in the corner of the club wearing a fancy cocktail dress with a glass of red wine in hand, wondering what went wrong in their lives, like I do right now. Wow, that was oddly descriptive. So, how this convocation works is everyone’s gathered in a circle with woman all on one side and the men on the other (wow what happened to gender roles not being a thing anymore) and everyone has five minutes to chat, then the men rotate and switch partners. But, if both partners are satisfied with each other, they’ll ring the bell at the center of the table to indicate they’re set with each other for the rest of the event. Don’t get me wrong, I was totally down with the event for the first 20 minutes. Then, I’d ended up chatting with over 10 guys, leaving unsatisfied each time and just lost hope. I figured out that I’m only here to find someone exactly like Chan, in order to get back at him and bring myself closure. But in reality, no one is ever going to compare to him. 

“Rough day?” A familiar voice rang my ears. My heart skipped a beat in relief that he’s here, even though I’ll never come to admit it. My ex-best friend pulled out a rose from the confines of his jacket, handing it over to me.

“If you’re just here to tell me that I was right, you can take that rose and shove it up your ass” I said nonchalantly, acting unfazed by his presence. Even though, I was more than ecstatic he was here. 

“I see you’re still a hard ass” Chan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement at me. It took everything in me not to crack a smile because of the contagiousness of his smile. But, I’m not going to make it easy on him to grant him forgiveness. 

“What on Earth would make you think that’d change?” I cocked up an eyebrow at him, maintaining a poised composure. 

“You look great!” He complimented me, fixating himself in a more casual position, with his elbow wrapped around the top of the chair’s slat. 

“And your hair’s grey. What are you trying to get out of this?” I crossed my arms, giving him a look of bewilderment. “And you better make it quick because you have three minutes left” I continued giving him a hard time, checking my phone for the precise time. 

“Look, I was an asshole and I was in denial more than anything. I didn’t appreciate what I had until it was gone, that I ended up losing my best friend. I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am, Y/N” Chan’s words dripped with sincerity. 

“Well, I’m not disagreeing with you” I snickered playfully, causing Chan to look down at his toes, guiltily. “Why are you telling me all this after two years?” 

“You muted all of my calls and texts!” He exclaimed, a hint of a smile cracking through his lips. My mouth formed an ‘oh’ shape in realization, now it was my turn to look down sheepishly. Curses, my impulsiveness. The sound of glasses clicking sounded throughout the room, indicating it was time to switch partners. Without consulting with me, Chan dinged the bell in between us. 

“I never approved” I pouted, but being secretly thrilled he’d done that, so he was mine for the rest of the evening. 

“I don’t ever expect you to forgive me for what I did to you, but I just want to let you know one thing. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Always have and always will” He sighed, sadly, before initiating eye contact with me. 

I immediately felt my features soften up for him, egging him to continue, “You have every right to think this is bullshit, I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you at debate class. I thought you were so headstrong and honest and beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, you still are, which is one of the reasons I still love you to this day and why I’m here with you right now. Back then, I was scared of rejection and I was incredibly stupid. Then after that one night when we kissed, everything came into place and I fell for you all over again. I didn’t act upon my feelings because I was afraid of ruining our friendship, so I went out and looked for the next perfect girl I could find, just to get over you. But, you know what? I failed. So, I ended up shutting you out and making one of the biggest mistakes of my life” 

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I teared up, already forgiving him as soon as he’d gotten here. “But I love you” I chuckled at his priceless reaction, crying happy tears. He arose from his seat, wiping away my tears with the pads of his thumbs. I last saw one of his signature, angelic smiles plastered to his face, dimples seeping through and everything, before he brought our lips together into a belated kiss. 

& that’s the story of how I fell headfirst for the boy in a grey sweatshirt in debate class and reunited with, with grey hair. 

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[go-kary-blog]

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[chasholidays]

Time stamp, Forever and/or down in flames universe, prompt: future

Original fic here!

“I think I have a career,” says Clarke, in the same way other people might say I think I have cancer. Well, not quite that bad; there’s more shock than upset in her tone, a kind of disbelief that something like this could happen to someone like her. Pregnancy might be a better analogy, something that could be good or bad but she’s too surprised to know yet.

Regardless, he mostly finds it hilarious. “Did you not know? I thought you knew or I would have told you.”

He does get why Clarke is surprised about her career in general, he’s just not sure why it hit her now. A few months after they got married, she started a webcomic, something that’s half slice of life and half weird doodles of mythical creatures doing errands, and somehow it really took off. Raven deserves a lot of the credit for the initial jump in popularity, since Clarke is incapable of figuring out online self promotion, but once she got enough instagram followers, she stopped really needing to do much. She’s made some merchandise and takes commissions, and has enough that she can pay Raven to help with her with her homepage and other stuff.

It’s not a great career, not making her rich, but it’s enough that she’s gotten rid of most of her part-time jobs and is making a living as something like a professional artist.

It is definitely very weird and confusing; he just assumed that she would have noticed that sooner.

“I keep waiting for someone to notice I’m not actually funny,” Clarke admits.

“You’re kind of funny,” he says, and she laughs.

“Thanks, babe. Your support always means the world to me.”

He raises his arm and she tucks herself under it, snuggling in. “I think you’re funny,” he says. “But a lot of the comic is kind of–absurd,” he finally says. “It’s not about making jokes, it’s about being fucking weird. As it turns out, people think our lives are just kind of inherently funny. Which they are. You’re not coasting on unearned success here, Clarke. You work hard on your art, I know you do.”

“I know. This just wasn’t really what I pictured myself doing, I guess. I thought making it as an artist was going to be–”

“Your art hanging in a museum.”

“Something I could show my mom to prove I made the right choice.”

“And you can’t show her the webcomic?”

“I could tell her about the book.”

Bellamy freezes. “The book?”

“That’s how I know I have a career, yeah. Raven just told me. A publisher is interested in putting together a print version of the webcomic, with some exclusive content, a certain percentage of new strips, stuff like that. The email has all the details.”

“So you already agreed?”

“I wanted to surprise you. Do you not think I should do it?”

He laughs and tugs her closer. “No, of course I think that. Honestly, I’m just amazed you kept it quiet.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can keep secrets. And it wasn’t hard, I got most of the emails while you were at work. It did kind of suck to not tell you, but I got advice from Raven. And I figured it would be, you know. Cool.”

“It is cool. I’m really proud of you. Do I need to do anything? What’s your deadline? When does it get published?”

Clarke laughs, soft, and kisses his shoulder. “We’ve still got a while to go. I’m probably going to be a mess for a while while I try to get everything done.”

“You?” he teases. “A mess? What a concept.”

“Shut up. A new kind of mess. A mess with purpose. I’m turning over a new mess leaf.”

“Wow. That’s going to be something. Can’t wait to see what new horrors that will bring.”

She elbows him. “It’s going to be awesome.”

“It is.” He kisses her hair. “My wife, the published author.”

“Don’t jinx it. I still have to write the book in time.”

“You’re going to,” he says. “I’m not worried.”

“That makes one of us.”

“New leaf, remember? It’s going to be fun.”

She shakes her head, smiling a little. “Sure. Fun.”

*

There’s no particular reason that Clarke’s book should cause any kind of seismic shift in Bellamy’s life, but that’s not really the cause of the shift, he doesn’t think. It’s hard to not occasionally take a step back and think about where he is and where he’s going, and given what his actual life looks like, it’s pretty easy to feel like a lowkey failure.

Really, the odder thing is that every time he does this, he finds his life is actually in amazingly good shape. He and Clarke might not be great adults, but they’ve cleared more hurdles of adulthood than a lot of his friends have, without even trying. They’re married, they’re homeowners, they have a dog. Bellamy has a steady job in his field, and Clarke has a good gig of her own. They have a savings account that they actually put money into every month. They’re not getting rich, but they’re stable, even upwardly mobile. Against all logic and reason, he thinks he and Clarke are doing well.

Which is honestly what freaks him out the most, and what he doesn’t quite know how to explain to anyone.

“It’s like when you beat a video game and you’re running around doing all the bonus content because you’re not ready to be done yet, but you know you kind of did everything?” is the approach he tries with Miller, who does not look impressed.

“So what you’re saying is you already beat life and now you want the DLC? Yeah, I can see why you don’t want to tell people that.”

“Seriously, you know what I mean, right? I don’t know where we go from here. It’s not bad, just–weird.”

“I feel like the next logical step is kids, but I’ve met you and Clarke and I’m not convinced reproduction is a good idea.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure either. I like kids, but I don’t know if we actually need to have any of our own. I’m amazed we keep the dog alive.”

Miller snorts. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re all shocked about that one.”

“It’s not like I’m complaining. My life is awesome and I’m happy. But it’s weird feeling like I don’t have anything to work for.”

“Promotions,” Miller says. “Another dog, I don’t know. I get it,” he adds. “I’m not there yet, but it makes sense. But dude, it’s like you’ve never even seen Tangled. Find a new dream.”

He pauses. “How many times have you seen Tangled?”

“That movie is fucking solid,” says Miller. “Good luck with your stupidly perfect life.”

“Thanks. I’m doing my best with it.”

*

Clarke working on a book honestly isn’t really functionally different from Clarke working on anything else, at least not from what Bellamy can tell. Her hours are as bizarre as ever, and she still has ink-stained fingers and a penchant for falling asleep on anything.

But there is a change in her too, even if it’s harder to detect. She takes the book seriously in a way that she’s never taken anything else seriously, for all she’s always been dedicated to her art. The book means something to her that he hasn’t figured out yet, that he’s not sure how to figure out.

At least, not until his conversation with Miller, after which he asks, “So, is this book like your final boss?”

She’s reviewing some of her old comics to see which she wants to put in, almost completely engrossed. “What?”

“The book. Is it the culmination of your life or something?”

She snorts. “I hope not.”

“It’s something, though. Not that it shouldn’t be, but–”

Finally, she stands, her entire body cracking as she stretches. She’s been sitting on the floor so much he’s starting to worry about the long-term effects on her body. If they didn’t have the dog to force them to go on walks, he’s not sure how much fresh air she’d even get.

“This is a lot, even for you,” he says, and she flops onto the couch next to him.

“Yeah, I know. I think it’s probably residual–it’s an assignment, and I was a straight-A student. I want to do my best on it. And do extra credit.”

It makes sense, but it doesn’t feel quite sufficient. “Have you told your mom about it yet?”

Her discomfort is immediate and obvious as she shifts a little, frowning. Clarke and her mother are on better terms than they were when she and Bellamy first met, but it’s still hard. He remembers from his own childhood how long it can take to recover from a loss like that, how the fallout can sometimes feel even worse than the event, or at least different and awful in its own way. Clarke and her mother don’t want to be enemies, but Clarke likes her life, and he has to admit it doesn’t look great from the outside.

Even from the inside, it can sometimes be pretty grim.

“Not yet. I thought I’d just send it to her when I got author copies or whatever.”

“That won’t be for a while yet.”

“It’s not like we talk that much,” she points out. “I kept it a secret from you and we live together and talk all the time. It’s not going to be hard to not tell my mom. She asks what I’m working on and I say the usual. Which isn’t even a lie,” she adds, before he can try to protest. “Because this is definitely what I always do.”

“It is. I wasn’t going to say that. I just feel like I don’t get how you feel about this book.”

“And you want to understand every feeling I have?”

“No, fuck that. I just don’t like not knowing shit. And this one’s bugging me.”

“It’s not the only thing.” She nudges him with her elbow. “I’ve definitely noticed you acting weird too.”

“Yeah?”

“Not even going to deny it?”

“No. I’m having a weird crisis.”

“Define weird crisis. Do you want to buy a sports car?”

“Not really. But is it weird if I feel like we should be buying something? Or maybe just me, I don’t know.”

“I don’t have enough information to tell you how weird that is. What do you want to buy? Why do you want to buy it? Is this just capitalism?”

“No.” He rubs his face. “Fuck, I don’t know what I want. If I did, I would have bought it already.”

“Oh, wow, this is actually bugging you. I thought you were just being normal grumpy, but this is something different, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s the same as your thing, though. My thing might be the next step, after you finish your book.”

“So this is a grim vision of the future, huh?”

“Learn from me.”

“You need to tell me what I’m learning first.”

“Our lives are awesome and I’m happy, but when I think about–what we’re aiming for in five years, ten years, fuck, thirty years, I have no idea what we’ll be wanting.”

“And that’s bad,” she says, slow.

“It’s weird for me,” he admits. “I think it’s just taken me a while to notice that all of the stuff I used to be working for–I’ve got it now. Good job, steady income, retirement fund. Awesome wife, nice condo, stupid dog. I’m so fucking happy, but it feels like I have everything I want.”

“You definitely don’t,” says Clarke, immediately.

He snorts. “Wow, just like that, huh?”

“I mean, I know what you mean, but what we’ve got is–the big stuff, I guess. The flashy stuff. My dad used to call it the money can’t buy happiness stuff.”

“Your dad had a name for this?”

“I mean, not this. But the general idea. He said that when people said money can’t buy happiness, they’re taking for granted all the stuff they wouldn’t have if they didn’t have money. Food and shelter and all that. So I’m going to say you are officially at the point where you have all the happiness money can buy.”

“You say that, but I don’t own a private jet.”

She rolls her eyes, as he deserves. “You don’t want a private jet.”

“No, I don’t,” he grants. “So, you’re saying that life is awesome and it’s time for me to find a new place to get validation?”

“Or just find a new hobby. Maybe you could write a book. I don’t know, you can figure it out. But I’m pretty sure in the next thirty years, we’re going to find awesome stuff to do.”

“And you’re going to prove to your mom that your life is good?”

She sighs. “I get that my life doesn’t seem great to her, but her life doesn’t seem great to me either. It would be cool if this book was, like–the intersection of what I think is good and what she does. We can all agree that a book is an accomplishment.”

“It is.” He kisses her hair. “Your mom’s going to be proud of you, no matter what. I’m pretty sure she already is.”

“And you’re going to come up with something new to want to do.” She frowns. “It’s not kids, right? This wasn’t some weird, roundabout way of telling me you think we should have a baby or something, right?”

“Honestly, I’m pretty sure we should never reproduce, yeah. Unless you want that.”

She nudges her nose under his jaw. “I think we could just get a bigger place and more pets. If we’re looking for things to aspire to.”

As aspirations go, they feel pretty small, but like Clarke said, they really have all the big stuff. They’re healthy and happy and more well off than they deserve to be. They can’t afford a house now, but in a few years, if he gets promotions and Clarke’s book does well, it’s probably within the realm of possibility.

“So, I have to find a new dream, huh?” he asks.

“And I have to write an awesome book. As problems go, they’re pretty awesome ones.”

He kisses her hair, smiling. “Yeah, you’re right. I bet we can work through it.”

After all, they are, somehow, good. They’ve got this.

#hedaoftheskaikru

[cannabisrefugee-esq]

The last day of my life was sometime in February, 2013 the day before I was first diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a progressive and incurable automimmune disease that targets the digestive tract.  As many people with Crohn’s probably know, and as none of us is allowed to think or say out loud, your life is essentially over once you get a Crohn’s diagnosis.  If not from the disease itself then from the treatments.

The disease itself is absolutely horrific and I saw it in my doctor’s eyes when she first broke the news and many times thereafter.  The first doctor in the practice to meet with me, right after diagnosing me said, “You need to get insurance immediately, if not sooner.”  I naively asked if that was because most Crohn’s patients needed surgery; she said no.  I didn’t understand what she meant but I was at the very beginning of my Crohn’s journey and just made a note of it.  I could tell that something was seriously wrong and about to get worse.  I mean, obviously.  If surgery and even repeated surgeries isn’t the worst thing in my future as a Crohn’s patient then what is?  I was already queasy from the Crohn’s related nausea but what she was saying, and not saying, unsettled me.

The second doctor in the practice to meet with me said, “You are an attorney, you are educated, intelligent and have research skills.  You should research this disease and all the treatments available to you.”  I didn’t know what he meant. After meeting with him for several follow-up appointments, when we had developed what I felt was a mutual professional respect, I considered telling him I would be at Starbucks later that evening if there was something he needed to tell me away from the office and away from prying eyes.  What did he mean and why couldn’t he just tell me about all the available treatments himself?  At the time, the research I had done indicated that the conventional treatments for Crohn’s don’t work much; that Crohn’s patients have an extremely low quality of life; and the best “alternative” treatment available was a so-called elemental diet, an enteric feed called Vivonex, a sickly looking yellow fluid that’s meant to be taken through a feeding tube but you can drink it straight if you can stomach it.  I bought several months’ worth at about a thousand dollars a month and tried my best.  It didn’t work.  And despite also taking the prescribed treatments including Pentasa, Entocort and Prednisone, I was getting steadily worse.

I was reading online Crohn’s forums and reading about patients who had been living with Crohn’s disease for decades, as well as the recently diagnosed, and the absolute hell they had been going through with medications, procedures and repeated surgeries that did nothing but make them feel worse in the end.  No pun intended.  Some people found success with different treatments only to find their effectiveness short-lived.  Normally I would concede that those patients who were satisfied with their treatments and with their quality of life would be out living their lives and not commiserating on an online forum, and therefore I would take the published accounts with a grain of salt.  But in this case I noticed a pattern: many of the patients writing on the forums had been getting some relief from their treatments for a time but the treatments eventually failed.  What I was reading were both the treatment failures and the treatment successes in that sense.  Where are the Crohn’s patients who respond well to the treatments forever and don’t feel traumatized, stigmatized, disabled, or have other reasons to publicly talk about it?  I have no idea.  I have never met one.  I understand that they are probably out there somewhere but the truth is, even they won’t know what group they themselves fall into until they die.  Just because they are getting relief from their symptoms right now means nothing.

Eventually, I fell down the rabbit hole of researching medical cannabis for various conditions, including Crohn’s.  Is this what my second doctor had been referring to when he told me to research what was out there?  Cannabis was still illegal in my home state, not to mention outside the “official” accepted standard of care for Crohn’s, so that could’ve easily been what he meant and he just couldn’t legally say it. After reading and viewing hundreds of blog posts, medical journal articles, and YouTube videos on cannabis and Crohn’s, I suspected it was.  I had been treating with prescription medications for 2 years and was feeling my health, energy and life slipping away.  I was getting worse and at a terrifying pace.  I had no idea what was in store for me and I had no idea it was even possible to be that sick — I had always assumed that there was some threshold of pain and suffering, some Agony Index at the pinnacle of which you would simply die.  Essentially, I had always assumed that something this relentlessly painful would be fatal.  I started to panic as I understood that it just might be possible to be this sick, or even sicker, indefinitely, and that at some point I would probably lose my mind from the pain.  What happened next seems a blur.

My Pentasa wasn’t working anymore and the next course of action was to get on an infusion treatment that basically gives you AIDS: it destroys your immune system.  You get all the opportunistic infections of an AIDS patient including thrush, pneumonia, and even cancer as so-called side-effects of the medication. Meanwhile, Crohn’s itself is not curable and is progressive, meaning that it never goes away and only gets worse.  So then, looking down that road, you have Crohn’s, AIDS, and cancer to contend with and all that comes with each condition including more treatment, more side-effects and more opportunities for medical accidents, treatment failures and complications up to and including death.  I suspect that actor Shannen Doherty took this treatment for her well-known case of Crohn’s and that the Crohn’s medication caused her cancer in the end.  I suspect the same thing happened to my fitness trainer who had an autoimmune disease and ended up with cancer too.  I began to see my own future.  And I was so desperate to have even a temporary respite from the agony of Crohn’s I was going to take the medication anyway.  I was tested for tuberculosis — a precondition to having your immune system decimated because any active infection at that point can kill you — and I was going to start the infusion treatments as soon as possible.  Everything up to this point had been either free samples of medication or self-pay and I was prepared to pay additional thousands of dollars if it meant I would find some relief — the infusions alone were to be something like $4,000 each, to be repeated every 8 weeks.

In the meantime, I had taken the first doctor’s advice and applied for health insurance.  Because I had not worked as an attorney for about 4 years by then and had started a small business that was compatible with my new and worsening disability I applied as an uninsured person through Obamacare which placed me on Medicaid due to my small income.   The first thing Medicaid did was deny the Crohn’s medicine I was already on (Pentasa, which didn’t work much anyway if at all) and then my doctors fired me because they didn’t take Medicaid.  Without a doctor, any plans for the infusions were put on indefinite hold.  At that point, because I had practiced benefits and anti-poverty law for years, I knew where I was headed: in and out of the hospital and fighting with Medicaid to approve maddeningly ineffective medicines and treatments and brutal, gravely dangerous ones, all of whose known side effects could be just as bad as if not worse than the disease itself, and where even a favorable resolution to the Medicaid issue would easily take months if not years to achieve.  All the while suffering with the hellish, unrelenting agony of un- and undertreated Crohn’s.  I knew what I had to do.

I packed one suitcase and made a reservation at a vacation rental property in a cannabis-friendly state where I had planned to stay for 2 months and treat with medical cannabis.  I had hoped that I would get better and go home but it’s now been 3 years and I am still here.  I have gotten significant pain relief and improvement in my Crohn’s symptoms which I consider a hard-won and unlikely personal success.   Nothing can diminish that and I am immensely grateful to have gotten some relief.  But now I have spent my life savings, liquidated my assets, and maxed out and destroyed my credit, and although I have worked on my small business as best I could, almost everything is gone. I will soon be facing homelessness as a chronically ill cannabis refugee.  Because I have refused Western medical treatments for my illness I am not eligible for disability-based benefits.  My attempt to “help myself” financially by starting a small business has complicated my finances such that I am not eligible for any need-based benefits at all, or anytime soon.

Not knowing what else to do, and wishing to document my experiences, I have started this blog.  It is intended to be a very short-term project where I will record my insights and what I have learned from my relatively new station as a chronically ill person in the context of Western patriarchal and capitalist medicine, and my resistance to it.  I hope to absolutely excoriate Western medicine’s treatment of Crohn’s and other serious illness; to rail against the disability- and income-based benefits structure where so many sick, injured and otherwise vulnerable people fall through the cracks; to describe my treatment successes and failures, including my treatment with medical marijuana (also known as medical cannabis, medical pot, or MMJ); to describe the crushing disappointment and sorrow I have experienced through family and friends’ failure or willful refusal to really “get” what Crohn’s is all about, what Crohn’s patients go through and how disabling Crohn’s can be; and hopefully to find a solution to the untenable situation in which I currently find myself.  At the very least, I will find some comfort knowing that I have spoken the truth aloud about my experience as a Crohn’s patient disaffected with Western patriarchal and capitalist medicine; as a cannabis refugee; and as an attorney who in the end, may be unable to help even myself successfully navigate the social, legal and financial hardships of a serious chronic illness.

To all Crohn’s patients — and all those seriously ill and disabled — who may find themselves reading here, I offer my empathy for you and your condition, my understanding of your plight, and my sincerest hope that you will find some comfort somewhere, whether through successful traditional or alternative treatment, miraculous or spontaneous remission, or simply by reading these words and the words of other truth-tellers online and off.  To Crohn’s patients specifically, I have received tremendous comfort and knowledge from reading your testimonies on online support forums and your truth-telling has soothed my soul and enriched my mind.  I hope to return the favor by recording my truths here, especially those that are taboo, contrary, uncomfortable, and rarely addressed.  Please feel free to comment here or contact me using the contact form at the top of the page.  I can’t promise I will respond, but know that I will read your words, and that I feel you.  I really, really feel you.

#crohn's #chronicillness #autoimmunedisease #medical marijuana #pentasa #diability #auto immune disease #chronically ill #weed #vivonex #peak capitalism

[bigyack-com]

Air pollution impact on health worse than previously thought - more lifestyle

Researchers have recently found that health problems linked to air pollution could be more higher than previously thought.According to the study, short-term exposure to air pollution has been linked to a staggering number of hospitalisations for numerous health issues like strokes, brain cancer, miscarriage and mental problems.The research also suggested that the impact could be far wider, despite looking at only one component of air pollution, chiming with a global review published earlier this year that indicated almost every cell in the body may be affected by dirty air, the Guardian reported.“The drive behind (the new research) was to do the most comprehensive study ever conducted at looking at all possible causes of hospitalisation that could be (linked) to exposure to fine particulate matter,” it quoted study co-author Prof Francesca Dominici of Harvard University.Dominici and his colleagues reported in the BMJ that they analysed more than 95m insurance claims raised between 2000 and 2012 by hospital in-patients in the US who were aged 65 or more and enrolled in the Medicare programme.They then looked at the air pollution, focusing on PM2.5 produced by vehicles and power stations etc. By analysing air quality data from various sources, they were able to estimate the PM2.5 levels for each patient on the basis of their home zip(pin) code.The team compared air pollution levels for each patient during the two days around their hospital visit with levels from other points in time.This approach essentially takes into account factors such as age, socioeconomic status and even obesity, since it uses each patient as their own reference. Fluctuations in air temperature and other factors were taken into account separately.The results backed previous studies that showed a link between short-term exposure to dirty air and conditions such as heart failure, pneumonia and heart attack.The analysis suggests that even a small average rise in PM2.5 of 1 micrograms per cubic metre over a two-day period is linked to an increase of 68 older people per billion who were taken to hospital with heart failure the next day.Put another way, the increase in air pollution raises the risk of such people ending in hospitals with heart failure by 0.14 per cent.The team also found that diseases that included septicaemia, Parkinson’s disease and urinary tract infections were also associated with poorer air quality. Study author Yaguang Wei was quoted that the research suggested that the ill-health effects of PM2.5 were not restricted to individual organs. “It has a more systemic effect on multiple pathophysiological processes such as inflammation, infection, and water electrolyte balance,” he said, although the details were unclear.While the study cannot prove that air pollution causes the diseases, the team say it adds weight to calls for air pollution guidelines to be reviewed.Dr Ioannis Bakolis of King’s College London, who was not involved in the study, agreed. “These guidelines needs to be revised, as even the 9 per cent of the population that lives within the WHO limits may be substantially by affected by air pollution concentrations and its associated costs, according to the findings of the study.”However, the study has limitations, including that it looked only at one component of air pollution and only considered outdoor air pollution near patients’ homes.It also did not account for short-term changes in behaviour that might have varied with air pollution levels - such as physical activity levels - while it is not clear if the results would hold in those not enrolled in Medicare, including younger people.A team of experts from the University of Southampton say that there is much to learn, but one should not mistake knowledge gaps for paucity of evidence. “The sooner we act, the sooner the world’s population will reap the benefits.”(This story has been published from a wire agency feed without modifications to the text. Only the headline has been changed.)Follow more stories on Facebook and Twitter Source link Read the full article

[marketinghero]

BrewDog’s controversial honesty Six years since co-founder James Watt said he would rather set fire to his money than spend it on advertising, BrewDog has launched a brand marketing campaign on TV and the sides of buses to launch what it claims is “the most honest ad ever”. The poster version is a blank space with a picture of BrewDog’s Punk IPA and the word ‘advert’ written behind it in big black text. The TV version is the same but with a metal (yes metal, not punk) track playing for the 30-second duration. As far as ads go, it definitely errs on the simpler side of the creative. But this isn’t just a basic poster or TV spot; this is BrewDog spending big on advertising for the first time, having realised that word of mouth, shock tactics and using website ratings to slate other beers will only carry it so far. This is no bad thing; most brands have to do above-the-line advertising if they want to scale up and go global, which is what BrewDog is trying to do. Where feathers have been ruffled is that BrewDog is happy to take swipes at its competitors for their “bullshit” advertising when it has just spent god-knows-how-much on a Game of Thrones ad break and buses across London and Manchester. It still sees itself as the rebellious craft beer brand that joined the scene 12 years ago, when in reality it is really no different from many of the beer brands it claims to hate. There comes a time when every punk has to shave off their mohawk and hang up their boots. The sooner BrewDog realises that, the sooner it can get on with its journey into adulthood without being called out for hypocrisy when it launches a regular, mainstream ad. Just like everyone else. EH READ MORE: BrewDog needs to be honest with itself about its ‘honest’ new ad Boots digitises loyalty and launches summer campaign It feels like it’s been a long time coming because it has, but Boots has finally made its Advantage Card loyalty scheme digital. Compared to the rest of the retail market, Boots is incredibly late to the party, which is strange given Advantage Card is one of the oldest (22!) and most popular loyalty cards in the UK. But now customers will now be able to scan to collect, redeem and check their points straight from their mobile via the app. The digitisation of Advantage Card will no doubt be welcomed by Boots’s 17.1 million loyalty members – 1.5 million of which signed up in the last 12 months alone – and help it compete better with the likes of Superdrug’s Beauty card. Boots also began its summer activity this week with a refreshingly body positive campaign looking to “celebrate confidence” during the summer period. The campaign was based on depressing research carried out by Boots which found three quarters of British women have avoided summer activities because they felt self-conscious. There has been a big shift in the way women are portrayed in ads in recent years and a number of retailers are making a conscious effort to be more inclusive and representative with their advertising. This is an example of using advertising as a force for good – let’s hope it continues. EH READ MORE: Boots makes Advantage Card loyalty scheme digital You talkin’ to me? Warburtons partners with Robert De Niro Warburtons is no stranger to a famous face. It has previously partnered with Sylvester Stallone and the Muppets, and now Robert De Niro has taken the starring role in its new campaign. The bakery brand has used Oscar-winning actor to promote its new bagel range in a bid to create “talkability”. Using famous people doesn’t guarantee that, of course, but it’s a model that has worked well for Warburtons previously, not least because of clever contrasting. De Niro acts alongside chairman Jonathan Warburtons, who plays himself, and the brand knows how to use self-deprecating humour to juxtapose its Bolton heritage with De Niro’s world in the ad. The new bagel product is also a smart move that mimics the evolving bakery market. Sales of white sliced loaves were down 12% over the five years to 2017 and more consumers are looking towards ‘sandwich alternatives’. It launched ‘bagel thins’ four years ago, which the brand claims now accounts for 20% of the market. In the short term, the talkability that Warburton’s wants has been achieved, with national newspapers and social media going crazy for the ad. The key now is to translate that to sales. MF READ MORE: Warburtons on its new bagels ad: ‘Without De Niro we wouldn’t have run that creative’ Asda outlines strategy following failed merger Asda has spoken for the first time since its proposed merger with Sainsbury’s was blocked by the competition watchdog last month. Echoing the sentiments of Sainsbury’s CEO Mike Coupe, Asda boss Roger Burnley said it’s business as usual for Asda and it will focus on price, customer experience and driving growth “where customers care”. However, at the same time Burnley admitted the Competition and Market Authority’s decision to block the deal will make it harder to deliver its strategy at the same pace as if the merger had gone ahead. But Asda is focused on price and that’s what people know it for. Building on that consistency should work in its favour, but it will need to work hard to make sure its brand message doesn’t become stale and it is giving people reasons to shop there other than just price. That’s where focusing on the customer experience becomes important. Asda is investing in technology, with its Stevenage store set to become a test bed for new tech solutions to help Asda understand what works and what doesn’t. It will be interesting to see what comes from that and how this impacts the customer experience. Asda will no doubt be keeping a close eye on Sainsbury’s current checkoutless trial. And let’s not forget Morrisons, which recently announced its intended move into the delivery space, which will surely have piqued some competitive intrigue. EH READ MORE: Asda refocuses on price and customer experience following failed Sainsbury’s merger Prostate cancer plays on emotion in awareness boosting campaign Prostate Cancer UK’s new campaign aims to raise awareness and educate people about the disease that kills one man every 45 minutes in Britain. The charity says the sheer scale of the cancer is often not understood, meaning people don’t realise how it could directly impact their lives and the lives of those close to them – something Prostate Cancer UK wants to change. Its new campaign, ‘Men, we are with you’, features raw imagery and footage of real men, some of whom are living with prostate cancer, in a bid to reach the people that matter most in an authentic way. For instance, rather than talking about the cancer itself and shouting at people to get tested, the “stripped back” spot was based on audience research and the concept of talking about, and making people feel emotionally connected with, the men in their lives. Olivia Burns, director of communications at Prostate Cancer UK, says the spot was based on years of research around engagement with the British public to better understanding both cancer patients and those whose lives have been affected by the disease. “The campaign has been a long time in the making. Two years ago we started doing research around engagement and understanding our audiences,” she adds. “Then we looked at our brand through the lens of those people to learn about what appeals to them and what we needed to do. This set the framework in order to understand how we would then go about communicating with them and developing our brand campaign.” It’s a refreshingly raw wake-up call on the immediate threat of the cancer and a subtle nudge to encourage those around you to take take precautions and raise awareness. EL READ MORE: Prostate Cancer UK celebrates men with ‘stripped back’ campaign that aims to raise awareness The post BrewDog, Boots, Asda: 5 things that mattered this week and why appeared first on Marketing Week.

[canadasteroids-blog]

The Truth About Human Growth Hormone

Many opinions have been shaped by the media with all kinds of selfish interests hidden between the lines. Here is a rather broad yet detailed look into the truth about the human growth hormone. What is "human growth hormone"? Well, the term is relatively self-explanatory, the Human Growth Hormone is a chemical signal produced by your body to regulate the growth of tissues among other varied function.   When you cherished this article as well as you desire to be given more info about premade steroid cycles i implore you to pay a visit to our web-page. The HGH is produced naturally by the anterior part of the pituitary gland. For those who don't know, the pituitary gland is a bean-sized gland located in the brain just above the roof of your nose, this gland has been nick-named the conductor of the endocrine system in the body, this means that the pituitary gland orchestrates and manages the hormonal system by secreting control hormones that either exert their effects directly or indirectly through stimulation of other glands to secrete effector hormones. What is the relevance of this hormone? Some would ask, why all these hypes about this particular hormone? To fully comprehend why there is such a huge fuss about this hormone, you need to understand how the hormone works and what it does. All the application stem from its mechanism of action. Mechanism of action of the Human Growth hormone So, the human growth hormone oversees the growth and development of the human body, simple, right? Wrong! See, that right there is the first mistake people make when they are approaching the topic of the human growth hormone. People tend to derive the functions of the hormone on surface value. The truth is there is more than what meets the eye. For instance, the human growth hormone after being secreted by the pituitary gland, it enters the bloodstream and is therefore pumped to the whole body. In blood, the HGH can either bind to its own receptors (the HGH receptors) or the Insulin-like Growth Factor-1 receptor. Among the two pathways mentioned above, the IGF-1 receptor pathway is the most important with its effects in a different system ranging from glucose and lipid metabolism, control of weight gain and loss, control of cellular proliferation and tissue growth, control of insulin resistance and vascular diseases among others. It is the actions of these hormones that have been exploited by modern science to benefit humanity. Does everyone have growth hormone? Yes, every healthy person produces this hormone. The levels, however, varies from person to person depending on personal factors such as exercise, age, sex, physical fitness and muscle bulk. This should always be taken into account before diagnosing someone having growth hormone deficiency or excess of it. Uses of the Human Growth Hormone Scientists have studied the human growth hormone extensively since the mid-twentieth centuries with a breakthrough in generating recombinant human growth hormone happening in the 1990s. This implies that scientists are now able to create this hormone in a laboratory. As a result, much useful application of this hormone have been isolated and established. These uses of these hormones can be broadly classified into three; HGH application in medicine HGH application on sports enhancement HGH application in anti-aging medicine HGH application on medicine The human growth hormone has been used to manage several kinds of illnesses. Starting from the congenital lack of the hormone itself; a condition commonly referred to as the Growth Hormone Disorder. Children born with such condition are unable to attain normal adult height like the rest of the population. A common case example is one of the Barcelona football star, Lionel Messi. When he was young he was diagnosed with GHD; this diagnosis meant that he was unable to "normal" height. He was started on recombinant growth hormone courtesy of the Barcelona football management who paid for his treatment. According to his attending physician, the treatment gave him a boost of about seventeen inches! From his current height of 5 5", it means that without the treatment, Messi would have been only 4 feet tall! Other conditions such as Osteoporosis, Noonan syndrome, Turner's syndrome, Prader-Willi syndrome among many other indications have also shown responses to HGH use. Different conditions have different responses to HGH treatment, with growth hormone deficiency displaying the best outcome. HGH use in sports The use of the human growth hormone has harbored a lot of controversies with the laws of many sports regulating bodies, with WADA being one of the watchdogs out to get HGH users. Whether the use of human growth hormone is acceptable or not is subject to debate and controversies. What we are really interested in is whether HGH really works or not. The use of HGH has been proven to increase the body's lean body mass, enhance reduction of the excess body fat, improve muscle bulk and strength, hasten muscle healing and better bone healing. Doesn't the benefits just describe all the attributes of a good sportsman? In a study led by Dr. Ken Ho of St. Vincent's Hospital in Sydney, it was established that the use of HGH has an overall increase in the sprint time of athletes. In this study ninety six trainees were recruited and started on medication. Part of the trainees received placebos while the other received HGH injections for eight weeks "We found the enhancement in sprint capacity would correlate to a 0.4-second improvement over 10 seconds in a 100-meter dash." This study by Dr. Ho is the first study ever to establish the connection between the use of HGH and enhanced athleticism. No wonder the WADA are all over players using HGH. HGH use in anti-aging medicine Since the dawn of time, man has always strived to cheat death in all ways possible. This unquenchable thirst to overcome the scourge of death has seen humans go to lengths to try and stop death. Attempts in the past have proven to be extremely futile. This, however, is about to change with the dawn of drugs such as recombinant human growth hormone. The recombinant growth hormone is the new fountain of youth in town. It's use as an antiageing drug has caught the attention of many including the co-founder of pay-pal and the former owner of Facebook Mr. Peter Thiel, who is currently funding some of the research into the cure of cancer and anti-aging medication. In an interview, Mr. Thiel expressed his wish to live until he is one hundred and twenty years showing how serious he is in maintaining the hormone helps maintain his muscles and keep his bones stronger as prophylaxis against illnesses such as arthritis. "HGH helps maintain muscle mass, so it's less likely to get bone injuries and arthritis and stuff like that, as you get older HYPERLINK website HYPERLINK website Another big celebrity that takes HGH to maintain her youthful look is Suzanne Sommers. She has been taking the anti-aging medicine to replace what was lost naturally in the aging process. Suzanne, who looks nothing like her age admits to taking the antiageing medicine for her looks. In her social media, this is what she once had to say about the use of HGH "I take just what has been lost in the aging process to keep my system running optimally and protect against the diseases of aging." What the recombinant human growth hormone does is to supplement the reducing levels of human growth hormone produced by the body. The levels of human growth hormone reduce yearly after the end of the second decade of life. The reversal of this process by the use of the recombinant HGH restores the cells and tissues to that similar to one of a twenty-year-old. Is HGH entirely safe? Most of the raised concerned about the safety of HGH have never been validated. Most of the fears stem from sheer ignorance and speculations. The kind of side effects experienced by HGH users are not far from those experienced by users of any other drugs. Examples include; muscle aches and joint pains, edema, carpal tunnel syndrome, itching and numbing sensation in the hands and feet. These are pretty common side effects similar to that of many drugs taken regularly. Conclusion The recombinant human growth hormone is a golden goose from which multiple benefits can be drawn. Understanding the hormone is key in maintaining a level head and a sober when discussing matters patterning to this hormone. It's clear that the hormone offers more solutions than problems and the use of the growth hormone should be an issue to be embraced. The paradigm shift of medicine from the ordinary pharmaceutics to the use of biological products in the management of illnesses clearly indicates that the future is in molecular medicine. The sooner we embrace it in totality, the better the treatment outcomes will be. About the author: Patrick Del Rosario is a health blogger from HGH Vallarta. HGH Vallarta is a medical clinic specializing in Human Growth Hormone (HGH) and testosterone therapy.  

[crypytech-blog]

Bitcoin Mining Can Lead Global Temperature and Climat to Deadly Consequences

To any ardent follower or interested parties of cryptocurrency, it is common knowledge that the processes involved in ‘Bitcoin-ing’ consume a lot of power. For quite a while now, this has raised eyebrows in its direction on the cost of generating more power to sustain mining and trading. From its point of view, this is needed if Bitcoin is to replace the current fiat currencies. But what crypto lovers haven’t realized, or did realize but decided to keep mute, is the extent to which it could affect our climate. According to results from a new study, it is estimated that between now and the next two decades, continuous Bitcoin mining, trading and activities could bring about a 2oC (35.6oF) increase in global temperatures. The accuracy of this finding is strengthened by results obtained from the research carried out by the University of Hawaii. In UoH’s findings, enormous amounts of electricity would be required should a worldwide adoption of Bitcoin take place. The 2oC (35.6oF) global temperature increase would occur by 2033. This is because annually, Bitcoin trading emits approximately the same levels of carbon dioxide emissions (69 million metric tons) as that emitted by the state of Arkansas, USA. This was filed in a 2017 report for carbon dioxide emission which also showed that a single trade involving bitcoin consumed as much electricity as a home would in a month. Although it may seem like a small number, but the effects of this temperature rise could be catastrophic to the environment. It would bring about a rise in global sea levels, droughts, increase the likelihood and frequency of tropical storms and other disasters related to climatic fluctuations. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has it that such rise could cause a 30% decrease in water in some places, increase the possibility of polar bears, caribou, and other arctic animals become extinct while so increasing the tendency of coastal flooding in other areas –putting about 10million more lives at risk. According to the IPCC’s prediction, temperature levels by 2040 would have increased by 1.5oC (34.7oF) but it is possible the 2o threshold is surpassed before then. Since the advent of bitcoin and other digital currencies, it has received strong backing by investors and individuals. As such, it has assumed a Messiah-like status in the financial world due to its transparency and a significant reduction in fraud cases helped by lower security risks. It is believed to be a means to solving problems, asides the on-going financial crisis, ranging from homelessness to cancer and human trafficking. Also, it is being viewed as a way to ensure that governments remain accountable for and devise means to reduce global carbon footprint.

Currently, in the US, it can be argued that Bitcoin trading doesn’t produce as much carbon dioxide emissions compared to other pollution-heavy industries like transportation and agriculture. Despite this, Bitcoin, like other cryptocurrencies, rely heavily on the coal industry for cheap power generation. Over time, these carbon dioxide emissions add up and it is adding up, very fast. Researchers have been unable to determine what lies ahead for Bitcoin due to its short history and fluctuations between boom and bust cycles hence, a conservative approach employed. One of the researchers and lead author of the study, Camilio Mora, said that “if the rate of adoption of Bitcoin is likened to the slowest pace of adoption of tech innovations such as credit cards or cars, the global climatic consequences would be felt sooner.” To drive home this point, he recalled the hurricane disaster in Florida which happened earlier in the year. If that could happen with a less than 1o warming, he said, the Bitcoin industry is set to double these occurrences. If in doubt of these statements, one has to look at the processes involved in Bitcoin mining/trading. A blockchain, which plays the role of a record-keeper, requires huge computer power to process a transaction. What researchers like Camilio Mora do is to compare the CO­­­­­2 emissions due to electricity generation in countries where Bitcoins are mined with how efficient the Bitcoin mining computers are. An avenue to reducing these carbon emissions would be to carry out multiple transactions in one block. Consequentially, it would affect the efficiency rate and speed of transaction-processing Bitcoin is renowned for. The earlier the Bitcoin industry is able to utilize more energy-efficient methods and reap the financial benefits, the better. But, actions need to be taken immediately. “Presently, there’s no cause for alarm,” said Mora, “but should Bitcoin mining/trading gain more popularity and adoption, it just may hasten doomsday. Read the full article

#bitcoinmining #bitcointrading #globaltemperature #globalwarming

[elysiumrp]

Congratulations IZZY! You have been accepted as Rebecca Gray. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

I know how much you’ve liked Rebecca since the very beginning, so I’m glad that you finally took the leap and decided to pick her up. We’ve been needing more witches and warlocks to get involved in the main plot, and Resistance members as well, so it’s awesome that Rebecca can fill a spot for both of those roles. I have full confidence after seeing Kyle’s character development that Rebecca will become just as well-rounded, and having another character on the dash that I know will grow and change and mature throughout the path of Elysium is something that truly is exciting. I can’t wait to see Rebecca, and I can’t wait to interact with her either. As usual, Welcome to Elysium!!

OOC INFO

Name: Izzy Age: 23 (I’m 24, but I hate even numbers) Timezone: PST Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Previous RP Experience: [RFP] Activity Level: Trust Anything Else:  Just letting you know, I wrote this application while listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack.

IC INFO

Character Name: Rebecca Gray Why did you choose this character:

As you know, upon writing Rebecca, something within the character tied itself onto my mind. What happens during one’s childhood holds on immensely to that person throughout the entirety of their life, whether they like to admit it, or not. When it comes to family, they’re supposed to love you no matter what, even if they don’t like you, you’re family so they have to. Rebecca holds a similarity to me there seeing as I was in those shoes when I was young. I was the outcast of my cousins, always the one that was made fun of because I would rather read than T.P. people’s houses or play dark in the night with pillows – all stupidities. Family reunions were never fun but it also taught me that if I’m able to overcome being the cousin made fun of, I’d always be bigger than any other bullying. It helps grow yourself, helps fundamentally bring you into your own sooner so you know who you stand for – which is yourself.

Instead of becoming a victim at a young age, she grew from it. Accepting who she was and thriving with it. Of course, that doesn’t mean she regrets some things. Her mother, for example, is someone that was well-liked by her family, and because of what she did accidentally, she too has to live with it. In a way, it’s made her want to perfect the things she knows she can do rather than dwell in what others, and herself, and found herself weak in. That’s probably why she was drawn to brewing rather than spells seeing as one of the first pivotal incantations done ended up in her cousins fearing her and her family viewing her as a pariah. She feels safer relying on herself and ingredients together than spells. All in all, this is me as a witch, to be honest and I’ve always loved her since she dawned in my mind.

Describe your plan for them:

As of right now, a slow build. Not exceedingly slow like the Krabby Patty Formula being brought to the front of the screen, but at a pace that will let me develop Rebecca as her own and not just the one known for her brews. The world is changing, and she had been contributing to it before and after the reveal. I want her to lend her hand to the Resistance, maybe eventually revealing to the human world that some of the majority of the products they use are made by fellow witches. Yes, it may be something small in most people’s eyes, but it’s something being used by humans that they can’t just throw away or switch. She’s proud to work in the establishment now and for it to be just behind a door, Rebecca will attend every meeting because it’s something else she has found that maybe can possibly be perfected by her help. With everything happening with the supernaturals, I also want to allow her the capability to be the one they can turn to if injuries occur – i.e. the bombing with wolfsbane and vervain. Usually, my character decides for them self as to what happens, as do the people Rebecca will communicate with so I’ll let you know what she plans when she’s more developed.

Another thing I want to delve in, far down the road since it’s not a main personality trait about her, is the fact that dark magic basically held her hand at such a young age. Every so often Rebecca finds herself thinking about it, how kind it had been when she was in need. She knows not to turn to it, dark magic isn’t something that normally does it, maybe it was the energy in the room seeing as she was a source of light rather than seeking darkness to do anything, but maybe down the line she gets the courage to see what would happen if it were to happen again. It could happen with helping a friend or the cause, holding onto the fact that once before it worked for her and the next time it might or might not. It would be a fun thing seeing as she’s more positive than negative.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:

The first thing Rebecca thought of was how outrageous everything had happened. Of course, for people like witches, it was easier to hide their supernatural capabilities as opposed to vampires and werewolves. But to think that a mere hunter simply lost their mind and ranted about it for ten seconds was truly outrageous. At first, she was hoping that maybe the supernatural community would have a game plan for how to orchestrate their community afterwards, but it went haywire, something Rebecca found to be embarrassing on their behalf. After thinking about it, however, they had lived in secrecy, it was what they knew how to live and conditioned as well, technically not their fault if being thrust into the open was something they were no where near accustomed to. What also went through her mind was the bitterness she had at humans at first, she saw them as her cousins. Immediately chastising the supernaturals when they didn’t even give the time to learn about them, immediately hating them.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:

It took a while for Rebecca to see the virtues of a human and supernatural understanding, nearly six months before it hit her that it was the only way if they wanted to live in harmony. Yes, their race was released to the world, but just as she had overcome the downfall of her family casting her away, she overcame seeing the humans as terrible people. Rebecca had grown up beside them, learning how to do things to help benefit both them and her. In all fairness, witches and humans were the most alike, witches just being able to grow plants faster, make a vampire cry blood or a werewolf untransform from being a wolf. Just as before, she can live her life with the majority not knowing that she’s a witch and the products she makes being something anyone else can do.

Rebecca’s just grateful there’s no blood test that can find one to be a witch, being registered something she’ll never do. She’s apart of the Resistance after all, they’re meant to resist what the governments are creating and come up with a more humane plan. All Rebecca wants is for people to see the better outcomes of things that involve supernaturals. How her cream can heal a wound in seconds. A werewolf bite can save someone from dying of cancer. Vampire blood can bring someone out of a coma and bring them to their best health. All things she wants the human population to see, but Rebecca knows it has to be strategic, it has to be slow and if she has to live in fear that someone’s going to attack her, at least she knows she’ll be on the side that was innocent and only looking for equality to live in peace as things always had for centuries.

Para Sample:

Whenever a person simply knew that they were being lied to, the ringing in their ears, the sinking of their gut, it stayed with them until they found out. Since receiving the last text from Kaden, one that said she was going to her apartment to retrieve some clothes, Kyle knew what would happen. He would be there. After all, Kyle had bit him, and when he had done so, his body had been already mid-transformation. A bite as a human did nothing unless the wolf’s canines were exposed. When the wolf was taking over, then that permitted venom to be released, and if the full wolf was in attendance, venom came with every bite. However, it was a bite from an Alpha that allowed any form of steps taken to be pushed aside because it only took one pose of contact to do the damage it was meant for. This knowledge was something that was a residue from the Other Kyle’s knowledge of everything, and something that Kyle now knew.

Kyle had bit to kill. If Nick were anywhere to die, it would be in that apartment.

However, Kaden still said that she was going and Kyle remained in his room. Pacing back and forth and staring at the clutter on his desk that he knew he should reorganise with the plans and strategies that he had no clue as to why he had drafted them but still felt like they should be created. Plans, after plans, after plans. He didn’t want to be like the Council where things weren’t being done and only talk was ensued. He couldn’t have that with his pack. There would always be a plan, and a backup plan, just as there was an A-string and B-string when it came to players on a baseball team.

”Hey, food’s ready,” the voice of one of his pack members, Brooklyn, said, head peeking through the open door. When his door was open, anyone was allowed in. If it were closed, no one dared interrupt him.

”What is it,” Kyle answered in a toneless voice.

”Stella and Marc made butter basil pasta, some kinda Mexican drink… Michelle? Michelada? Something like that,” she replied, not deterred by his disinterest.

No matter how impacted his mind was and filled with thoughts that weren’t thoughts, just mind fillers, the mention of food always triggered regular Kyle to return, mouth already salivating. “Oh, fucking H Christ,” was all he had to say, throwing his phone on his bed, not wanting to think of the other end of it and where she was. “See, this is exactly why I chose them, fuck the strength shit, they fucking cooking.” After a laugh from his female wolf, Kyle chuckled lightly, making sure he voiced that he was only kidding so no ill-nature was spread.

They didn’t have a big enough table yet, so the dining room consisted of more than enough chairs, a cluttered counter and one table that fit four. That would be his next buy, and though everyone in the room offered their seat to their Alpha, Kyle brushed them all aside, preferring to stand so the others found comfort. He liked to stand when he hate anyways, all the years of him doing so while eating cereal paying off for the furniture they were yet to have. What was different now, though, was the fact that the energy the room brought was more familiar than Tarryn could ever offer — which he hated even thinking. Instead of just his cousin, he was surrounded by around seven others, all getting along and actually engaging in conversations rather than with one person, it was everyone. He loved it. Comradery was what was needed and it was there.

They were all there, conversing with Kyle laughing on and adding to when he couldn’t but do so, the necessity to lead everything through like he had always felt he had to there. It was when the words were becoming harder to say, the frowns becoming visible on each person and a strain present that Kyle knew was also on his face. They didn’t have to say anything to know that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The clatter of the bowls being set down and the sound of nails clenching into glass. No voice was heard, just strained breathing. There was a burning. Something sporadic flooding through each body. Nothing that could be quite pinpointed, but again, for the same reason as before, Kyle knew where it was coming from.

”Kyle… The fuck is going on,” one of his guys said breathlessly, hands holding on to the table he had been standing next to. Others had sat on the floor, some bracing themselves on the wall.

Instead of giving a solid answer, Kyle only raised his hand, motioning for everyone to quiet as he closed his eyes when the sensation grew stronger. He felt weak, weaker than he had ever been in his life. Past a point of starvation and dehydration, the inside of his body feel like a bag that was being vacuumed closed. His hands were shaking, eyes burning with what he knew to be the crimson from his wolf, but it didn’t burn like he was used to. It was as if it were crying out, his wolf clawing to stay alive but was being crushed by the rock that had collapsed on him. Someone had fallen to the floor, their body convulsing while another could be heard vomiting. Yet, all the while, Kyle could only think about what he knew was happening and that there was nothing he could necessarily do. It wasn’t like he could run to Antonia’s apartment, stop her from what she was doing.

His breathing was strained and it took everything to keep himself up, the sensation almost too overwhelming as it came to a climax and there were two others shouting out in agony. And just as Kyle could feel himself losing grip of what made him who he was, it ended. Just like that. Like a cramp that suddenly smoothed itself out and every agonizing impression it brought to him having gone. Everyone was panting, including himself. Breathing harshly but the hum of the pain that had just encased them leaving a scar mentally on them as if they could still feel it. Kyle felt his body buzzing, hands shaking as he brought them up to see his long claws now retracting in.

”Everyone breathe, we good?” he asked, looking up but not releasing the counter he was holding onto.

No voices were found just yet, some nodding and others raising their hands to their heads to wipe the sweat that had formed. It was Stella, the more outspoken of everyone, that spoke, tears having welled down her face. “The fuck was that, Kyle?”

He hadn’t noticed, but the hand that Kyle had been staring at was placed on his chest, as in a way to hold in the heart that was there and felt as if it were sinking. He didn’t even need a confirmation from Kaden to know that she had done something, and that something had just done its damage to him and most importantly his pack. He was just about to say just that, about to curse out her name when his clenched his eyes shut, head nodding in disagreement. He couldn’t do that to her. To throw her under the bus like that. They would hate her, and they weren’t allowed to. Only him. Only Kyle because he knew what she had done. Not even the Other Kyle’s knowledge in him had to tell him that she had just siphoned magic, and what was a werewolf made of? Exactly that.

So, for the first time since he had accepted being Alpha in this world, Kyle lied to his pack after he straightened his shoulders and tried to gain control of the aftereffects of what they had been through. “Someone just siphoned our magic and I’m gonna go kill them,” he stated. “Peter, clean your puke up, I’ll be back.” And with that, he turned around out of the kitchen, his footsteps paining himself but the necessity to release the wolf in him stronger than ever with the hatred at what she had done fueling him to run to where he usually went to emancipate what she just nearly took away.

Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)

N/A

#accepted #supernatural roleplay #bio roleplay #new roleplay #new rp