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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “In the Glass Tower.”

The continuation of Krill’s little story arc. I hope you enjoy it. :)

“And you let the creature come with you?”

“He presented a logical argument that I felt I couldn’t refuse.”

“This is not his business.”

“It involves his species, so arguably it is.” “This is not for the sake of argument.”

“I think maybe you should watch yourself. Emotion seems to be clouding your judgement.”

….

“Psychologist, is this your opinion as well.”

“He is a…. Fascinating specimen, both of them. They play off each other like the two points in a binary star system the one influencing the other but neither taking precedence.”

“I did not ask for poetic rhetoric, psychologist, I asked for your assessment.”

“You might have to be more specific, for that was my assessment.”

“Is he or is he not fit to live.”

“I think you will find that decision isn’t as easily made as you think it is. I spoke with the human at great length on the subject, and it….. He provided me with a very interesting take on the changes we have seen with the doctor.”

“We don’t care about the the observations of a human.”

“Well you should because the observation was astute and thought provoking. I think we, as Vrul, tend to be blinded by our supposed superiority and forget that other species have the ability to think logically the humans being the most flexible-minded in the known universe. Will I be permitted to continue.”

…

“Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“He is under the assumption that every change that we have seen in the doctor is an adaptive behavior to surviving with humans.”

“And how is aggression supposed to be adaptive?”

“You see, that was the interesting part. Humans communicate a measure of their hierarchical structure though aggression. Now if an authority figure is to give you a position in the hierarchy you may not have to be aggressive, but for the doctor, he was placed in a position of power by a human that sometimes refuses to listen. By appearing both concerned and aggressive at the same time he forces the other humans to listen to him therefore placing himself in a very high position within the social hierarchy. Many of the tiny movements that he makes is an adaptive way to show HUMANS that he is worthy of the position he holds. We see it as aggressive, they see it as confidence, or in certain cases anger and annoyance. Often times, humans do not understand that something is important unless it has a level of emotion attached to it. If i were to calmly walk into a room and tell the humans that there is a fire and they need to get out, they would be much less likely to respond promptly than if I ran in screaming about it. On the same line, the doctor must behave in an aggressive and angry manner in order to convince the others that his opinions are important and require a certain measure of….. Focus from his companions.

“That is a very convoluted and strange way to look at things.”

“But it is the functioning of a human ship. The Doctor has not lost his ability to be Vrul, but he has proven his adaptive nature.”

“He has proven, that his interest lies outside the furtherment of our species, and therefore is no longer of use.”

“I disagree.”

“We will see what the doctor has to say for himself.

***

It felt like a lifetime since Dr Krill had seen the horizons of his own planet, a ruddy sort of orange on the surface, the air fed by carbon producing lifeforms. The city was as he remembered it, an unchanging slab of white built in the most uniform of circles. with uniform buildings rising only to the height of three or four stories crossed between with long lines of wire. High walls encircled the entire perimeter isolating the interior from the outside world. Down in the city, the walls were so high that you had to crane your neck back simply to see the top. The council said it reduced the sunlight, but it was an acceptable measure in order to keep out the rest of the world.

Krill thought it was kind of ironic, almost funny. They had built a wall to keep out the world, but it was never high enough to keep out what had really come, it hasn't been high enough to keep out the cosmos, or the wars, or different ideologies that had fallen in from the galaxy.

In their fear they had tried to wall themselves off but ended up opening themselves up to the universe with open arms practically begging others to come in and cause them danger.

There were only thirteen cities on this planet, all of them ranged along the equator where the Vrul could best live. There had been thirteen for as long as anyone could remember, and in those thirteen cities there was just enough genetic diversity to keep a bottleneck event from occurring and annihilating the genetic diversity in the population.

In their fear they made the way they lived even more dangers, if there was more of them, more diversity more of them in the galaxy, than they would never have to worry about dying off.. By keeping their species isolated on this planet, they were threatening their entire species with mass extinction from a planet wide catastrophe.

He wondered if anyone else had thought of that.

He had never seen outside the city accept from above of course. He had seen hundreds of worlds, walked on earth with impunity, braved blizzards and asteroid fields, but he had still never seen his own planet. It was some kind of cruel twisted humor. He wasn’t entirely sure what species were even native here, other than the screllings that flew just beyond the wall perimeter repelled by force fields so as not to cause trouble.

Of course the way he described the city probably did not convey just how large it was. One one hundredth of the massive white circle was taken up by the landing field, large enough to hold Commander Vir’s ship a hundred times over than then some. They landed there and were escorted onto the platform.

He was surrounded almost completely by a wall of four Delta’s and their beta handlers.

Walking down from the ship and onto the white stone, surrounded on all sides by watching eyes, he almost didn’t notice the distinct thud thud thud, of human feet on the metal behind him. He turned his head sharply making the deltas shy away instinctively and the betas to glare at him with some trepidation.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when The Commander smiled at him from a few rows back. If Krill had thought a contingent of four deltas was flattering on his person, the human had amassed an entire squad of them. Surrounded on all sides very nervous eyes, and hopefully, steady trigger fingers.

“How in the hell did you manage to get here.” He said over the heads of his captors, incredulous.

The human shrugged at him, “Oh you know, used my ever present charm to talk my way onto the ship like a civilized person.”

“Well that’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

He was dragged away before he could say anything else. Tough his presence hadn’t caught the eye of the other Vrul, the presence of a human sure had. It had been a long time since a human last set foot in the city. The last person that had come was the Commander himself, when he was still an unknown player.

He had saved a child from drowning.

Once upon a time the humans had stirred and entire city of the least curious species into curiosity, but years and years of rumors, stories, and intergalactic propaganda had fanned the fire of their fears, and made something which was once so curious into something that was no more than a vicious rumors and a midnight creature.

They caught many expressions of wary apprehensions as they walked past escorted down the way and past the hatching factories, and the deltas going about their business urged on by their beta masters. Vapid and tireless kappas lined the streets with their menial tasks going on as they always had with precision and perfection only to be stopped by the glimpse of the human.

They walked on making their way past lines and lines of residence halls, over one small sector of the city before the thoroughfare opened up before them to reveal a wide white building with a spiraling tower that reached towards the sky. It was honestly the only ostentatious thing in the entier city, and they made the excuse that it was only logical to make the center of government the most obvious thing in the city. It was a symbol of power and control to those down below, and should be looed up at on all occasions to remind everyone what they were working so hard to achieve.

Krill bet you could see over the wall from the very top, where the glass windows allowed in great streams of light to bathe the council in glorious nutrition from their sun.

While the workers down below fought for the light at various times of day.

They were escorted onto the first floor of the tower, and that is where the human was led away escorted by his platoon looking over his shoulder at krill who was led towards a tall shaft at the center of the room. Those around him inflated their hydrogen sacks and he did the same, and together, with the help of a light towing cable, they were dragged up many floors to the tower, and into a brightly lit antechamber with big glass windows on one half of the circular room.

He had been right before, you could see over the walls and out onto the vast expanse of orange plant file that covered everything from horizon to horizon. He saw a flock of something out there, but couldn't have said what it was. He thought he even saw the silhouette of something very tall and very slender pass over the horizon, but if vanished before he could get a better look.

“The council will see you now.” A beta assistant said, ushering him through the doors and into the waiting room.

It was large and circular raised over the antechamber by a few feet to give the room a 360 degree view of the city and the surrounding landscape. From here the workers and the Vrul below were nothing more than earth ants scuttling about their dirt pile.

Around the room, the council floated in their places at the perfect distance from each other. They came in most of the expected colors for a Vrul, brown almost black, and grey both light and dark, one of them was so light it might have been mistaken for white if seen in a dark room, with nothing as comparison.

All of them were alphas, that was easy to tell, the best in stock of their species, perfectly formed, extremely keen, and unerringly arrogant. He had figured that last one out by himself, mostly with some self introspection and a couple of loud-mouth humans pointing it out. It was kind of the hallmark of being an alpha, thinking that you are better than anything else and knowing that it was probably true.

Of course, the real issue came when you were thrown into a world where intelligence and personality wasn’t so straight forward. A human that you, at first, might have thought was an idiot, could come back a second later and best you in a game of wit without so much as raising a finger, and going around to announce how great you were, was suddenly less appealing of an option.

They stared at him with silent impunity.

There were a few more there as well, one he recognized as the psychologist who had looked over his case, as well as the ship’s captain and a few other experts. He didn’t now them, judging by the look of them many were young. The average Vrul didn’t make it very long before the council deemed their productive output to be lacking.

If this was earth, that fact might just warrant a protest.

“Doctor Krill, Alpha of the undefined levels, step forward to face the council.” he did as requested, though ever fiber in his body had to resist the urge to snark at them.

“We have been monitoring your behavior for a while now, and we are displeased to say that we have not liked what we have seen.”

Krill remained rather silent.

“We had hoped when you were born, that you might prove to be of more use to the populace than you ended up being. You were very promising. Never had we seen a Vr With such advanced aptitude scores as you. You broke our testing systems and played about them like they were no more than simple riddles. Ou were originally intended for government? Do you remember that?”

‘My memory of those days is ... fuzzy at best.”

“A vrul always has their path chosen for them . We do not get to decide what we become, because it is not in our best judgement to make that decision when we cannot see the whole picture. Even as a grub you were particularly headstrong and difficult. The day that you were to begin your training with the political assemblage, you vanished, only to find you hours later wide and and fawning at the medical academy. By the tie it happened the damage had been done, one of our best minds lost to a scientific iled instead of the political one that kept us all safe.

Krill remained very silent, he had not heard this story before.

He hardly remembered any of this.

“”There were some who suggested terminating you on the spot from deviating against your original course, but with your potential we could not let that stand…. Another student was removed from your place, so that we could maintain the controlled population plan that we had original set out to keep.” Krill’s insides went cold. Once upon a time a revelation like that would not have surprised him, but after living with the humans for so long, soaking up their ideals, it was different to think any other way. Someone had been terminated for a rash decision he had made so long ago.

He had always fancied himself to be a level-headed rational being, but it seemed that that was not the case. He had just been comparing himself to humans.

“We watched you flourish in the medical career, and it seemed, for a time, that you would fulfill a purpose. You brought new techniques to the table, and more lives were saved, but then the medical field proved not to be enough for you. All of a sudden we are getting questions challenging the way things have been done for thousands of years. Why don't we try this, why don’t we try that. Why does it matter how many resources we use. Then you become the first Vrul to insist they are transferred off-world. Even then! We could stand it, despite your illegal forrays into journal publishing and development of new techniques.”

Outside the sun had curved down over the far side of the room throwing light across the floor.

“And then the humans came along, and what do you do, you up and quit your position without any prior warning, without speaking to the council, and you sign off with a human ship as a human doctor. The last hundred cycles you have spent with them making absolutely no contribution to our society. In act you have proven to be a great drain on the council, and your personal behavior has caused a stir among the general populace. Maybe this all would have gone away had you not made yourself so public, but instead you go galavanting around with the one creature in the entire galaxy that has everyone’s eyes trained on him.”

Krill watched the floor as their shadows crept towards him

“Your psychological tests have shown an extreme deviation from normality, and your behavior is so excessively individualistic that you have proven no interest for the furtherment of your species….. What have you to say to yourself.”

“You’re wrong.”

“What did you say.”

“I said you’re wrong.”

“And what proof do you have of this.”

Kril Moved to open his mouth and retort, but a shocked gasp from around the room cut him off.

“He has me.

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cecilspeaks · 4 years

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165 - Charlie

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are written about on Wikipedia. Welcome to Night Vale.

Charles Rainier grew up in Becket, Massachusetts, nestled in the rolling small hills of the Berkshires. The fiery fall leaves, pristine winter snowfall, lush spring flowers and sparkling summer lakes belied the average life of young Charles. He went to school, passed his classes, he spent time with friends seeing popular movies and playing popular games. His family ate food together and generally got along. When he wanted to be alone, he went to a small pond, hidden in the woods, to fish. He studied sociology at Amherst College and graduated in the top 50 percent of his class. Nothing about his unremarkable upbringing indicated he would one day be standing in the middle of a desert, behind a roadblock, holding a rifle and a flashlight, and searching for fugitives from his own asylum.

Last month, a dozen inmates of the Night Vale Asylum escaped during a production of a play. As an attendee of that play, I would say that while the escape was clearly not part of the original draft of the script, it made for an exciting resolution. I mean, bout 30 minutes in Carlos and I were like, is there going to be a car chase or a shootout or something, I mean that play was bo-o-o-orring! And then suddenly, there was both! But the warden, Charles Rainier from Becket, Massachusetts, did not like the last minute edits to the plot, as he and the Sheriff’s Secret Police have yet to round up any of the inmates now on the run, somewhere in our vast desert. Night Vale citizens have expressed deep concerns about their safety. A scathing op-ed in yesterday’s Daily Journal by Leann Hart read: “Warden Rainier should never have been in charge of such an important institution. His unchecked irresponsibility will lead us all to be killed by psychopaths, who surely hide now inside our basements, our attics, our laundry hampers, perhaps inside our own pants pockets.” The editorial continued: “They wield knives, ropes, wrenches, candlesticks, or pipes. And when we least expect it, these crazed killers will leap out at us, screaming bout eating our faces or feeding us to rodents. Or whatever other evil actions those two very funny women are always describing on “My Favorite Murrderrr”. Charles Rainier called Hart’s claims “neurotypical ableism”, saying that we become too biased from movies and TV shows that play up harmful tropes about mental illnesses. He added that none of the peoples inside were of immediate anger to any individual in Night Vale. The Night Vale chapter of the ACLU then responded, calling for in investigation into a public facility that would imprison people who had committed no criminal acts and were of no harm to society. Charles Rainier replied: “I said they wouldn’t hurt any individual. I didn’t say they were of no harm to society.”

But who were the people in the asylum? Carlos and I attended the production of the play “18713/NTSB”, partially to have a nice date night, just the two of us. But also because I was curious if I would see Amelia Anna Alfaro there. The air traffic controller has not been seen since 2012, after hearing voices from the missing flight, Delta 18713. There were rumors she was checked into the asylum. Other rumors, that she had gone off to find the missing plane, and other other rumors, that she was disappeared by a Vague yet Menacing Government Agency.

Amelia was not inside the asylum the night of the breakout. But Doug Biondi was there. He played the pilot of the missing plane in the play we saw. Doug was the impetus for this entire story, really, because it was Doug who, according to Sheriff Sam, had real information about the missing plane. Members of the National Transportation and Safety Board had also come to Night Vale to talk to Doug about what he knew, and Sheriff Sam obliged by sending those agents from Washington DC on an undercover investigation into the asylum. Yet, like Doug and the dozens of other inmates in that fearful place, they did not return.

According to to Doug Biondi’s journal, which Carlos and I found inside the asylum after the play, warden Charles Rainier developed a paradoxical logic for dealing with these inmates. He encouraged them to talk openly bout their feelings under the guise of healing them, but the more they expressed their thoughts and emotions, the more the warden used this information as proof of their insanity, and by extension, ineligibility for release. But as Doug elaborates, if inmates refused to talk, they were deemed uncooperative and of course, ineligible for release. Reading further into Doug’s journal, I realized it’s just like that novel, “Catch-22”, in that there’s a bunch of talk about airplanes. What stood out most to me, though, was the fact that every other inmate Doug mentions also talked about the missing Delta flight. Every single person in there either heard voices of the passengers, or had theories about what happened or were, in the case of NTSB agents, just open to find survivors of a missing plane. Doug railed against the collusion between the warden and the sheriff to imprison people simply because they knew something, anything, about flight 18713. “This is the last thing,” Doug wrote the day he escaped. “This nefarious conspiracy runs deep. Deeper than we can imagine. There are innocent people on a missing plane, and our government wants to destroy us for seeking the truth. Oh well. In other news, they fixed the TV in the rec room so I’m hoping to finally watch ‘Cheer’ on Netflix. Everyone says it’s super good.” Doug makes a compelling claim here, but he is wrong. About the conspiracy thing, not about “Cheer”, that show is super good.

So. Back in 2015, my devoted husband and devoted scientist Carlos, was heading a research project into a desert otherworld, a place very similar to our own. We spent almost a year apart while Carlos was in this alternate dimension performing experiments and drawing charts and pouring bubbling liquids back and forth between flasks. It was hard. We had only been dating a year when he left, but we kept in touch talking almost every day, sending each other text messages at night, like a kissy face emoji with a big red heart emoji. Or sometimes we sent racier messages, like [naughty voice] the safety goggles emoji with the police siren emoji and the first place ribbon emoji. Oh, sorry if that’s a little too graphic.

Anyway. Carlos made friends during his many months out of town, and so when he finally decided to return to Night Vale, some of those he met followed him. They came through a portal Carlos discovered in the Desert Otherworld: a one-sided door. It was difficult to find in a never-ending sandscape, but it is still there. And as Carlos said, once you know the way, you never forget it.

One of the people who came with Carlos through the portal in 2015 was Charles Rainier of Becket, Massachusetts. It was not easy for most of these new arrivals to find comfort or employment in Night Vale, but in just a few months, Charles had become friends with our new Sheriff and secured himself a job at the Night Vale Asylum. Few people looked deeply at the asylum, nor at Charles Rainier’s quick appointment as warden. Few people, in fact, looked closely at anything to do with mental disorders. It it almost as if we prefer not to see the mental illness at all. It is almost exactly like that. Well below the radar of public attention, Charles settled into his new position. And because there are no accounts of what went on in the asylum, and thus no stories of failure, it was inferred that he did a good job. But Carlos discovered something this week. In reading Doug Biondi’s journal, Doug makes passing mention of warden Rainier cautioning his inmates against listening to the voice of the pilot. The warden warns them that the pilot can control other beings with his mind. It is odd that the head of a mental health institution would patronize his patients with their own inner demons. Carlos at first thought the warden was manipulating the mental stability of his charges to stir up their fear and confusion in order to keep them there. We don’t know if the warden profited from retaining inmates or if he just felt an evil thrill from playing these games. But in Doug’s notes, the warden apparently said: “It is possible to escape the allure of the pilot. The power of his voice. Some have, but it is rare. And it is dangerous that you can hear him at all.”

Carlos remembered when he first met Charles Rainier, five years ago in the Desert Otherworld. Charles was so enthralled with Carlos’ stories of Night Vale. Charles Rainier could not wait to see this fantastic town and more importantly, to leave the terrible place in which he lived. He told Carlos that he escaped some – frightening people there. Charles Rainier said he had live in a commune for a couple of years. It began OK, they foraged and hunted their food, they helped each other and shared shelter inside the fuselage of an old plane. Everything was fine. They were alive, but soon the group became cult-like and aggressive, fashioning weapons and manufacturing enemies. The constant threat of violence toward other, towards themselves, shackled Charles’s every move. But he could not leave. Every time he tried, he heard a voice that called him back. So he trained himself to block out the voices. It took him weeks of determined practice, but finally he broke free. Carlos said to me: “Cecil, sweetie, my hypothesis is Charles Rainier was flying home from Detroit to Albany on June 15, 2012.” And I said: “What are you saying, honey-pop?” And Carlos said: “Babe, his plane blipped out of the sky and into the Desert Otherworld.” And I said: “Are you saying, kitty-cake, that Charles ws a passenger on Delta 18713?” But then Carlos aid: “You know, little piggy-pie, all this work talk is exhausting. Let’s have a glass of wine, sit out on the deck, and enjoy the nice weather.

[“Breathe” by Tanja Daub http://tanjadaub.bandcamp.com]

Listeners. I called Charlies Reinier, and I told him what Carlos and I talked about, and he confirmed what we discovered. He was indeed a passenger on 18713. They landed roughly but safely in the Desert Otherworld in June 2012. They ate their few food items and drank their water stores in two days. And soon they began spreading out to find civilization. But the desert was vast and seemingly uninhabited. They were too afraid to venture far from the plane, the only symbol of recognizable society. The pilot lead expeditions to find plant life and sources of water. He exuded calmness and clarity, and the passengers followed his example, occasionally finding peace in this unpleasant and frightening desert. Within a few months, they had developed a rhythm. They were finding food to eat, water to drink, the pilot seemed to know exactly where to hunt, exactly what to say, exactly how to behave.

Every passenger fell in line. They all had jobs to do, roles to fill, in this little commune. The fuselage kept them sheltered from the searing white days and the icy black nights. Sometimes they sang together, walked together, taught each other how to sew, how to cook, how to make tools. The passengers’ fear became comradery, which became unity, which became family. Which eventually became religiosity.

One day they were making salves from cacti, and the next they were crafting weapons. Charles hadn’t realized it at first, but every person on that plane could communicate telepathically. They could speak without talking – no, without learning. They were becoming a single organism separated into dozens of bodies. The loudest voice in their heads was the pilot. They had grown too complacent, and the pilot began to fill them once again with fear, fear of outsiders, of the rest of the world. They began to make barbaric expeditions hoping to find people or things to destroy. “I tried to escape,” Charles said to me. “I tried to escape over and over, but the voice was too strong. It was only when I thought about a little fishing hole down near Stockbridge that I would go to in summers by myself, to get away, to be alone.” Charles said he began to pantomime fishing, casting his imaginary lure on an imaginary line into and imaginary pond on hot desert sand. And when he did this, the voices quieted in his mind. He could free himself from the pilot’s voice, from the pilot’s control. I asked Charles why he and Sheriff Sam were locking away people just for knowing about the plane. He said: “Cecil, I locked up Doug Biondi before anyone else. He’s from that Otherworld, and he knows how to get back, and if he knows how to get back, he’ll join the 18713 and lead them into Night Vale.” Charles said he was protecting our little town from the threat of the passengers of Delta flight 18713. “If the pilot enlists Doug and gets into Night Vale, he’ll recruit who he can and destroy the rest.” “But why odes he communicate only through Doug? I-I mean why not Carlos or, or Dana Cardinal or Sheriff Sam themself? Why not recruit everyone who knows the way into Night Vale?” “I don’t know, Cecil,” Charles snapped back. “But I don’t will into existence by yapping about it either, so drop it!”

Listeners, Doug Biondi is about six foot tall. With an unsettlingly… long smile and dark nightmarish eyes. If you see him, contact the Sheriff’s office immediately. If you do not see Doug Biondi, then close your windows, hold your family close, and repeat a mantra that will clear your head of all outside thoughts.

Stay tuned next for a meditative oummmm. A single oummmmmm. For one full hour, uninterrupted by breath and commercial free.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

23:07 time traveler 30:32 pottery class

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 165 #Charlie

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wftc141 · 4 years

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Blackwatch Chapter 5: Zvonak na Zavtra

02:30 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

June, 2018

Gabriel let out a gasp as he bolted up. He was searching for breath as he looked around. Sweat was running down his body, sticking to his sheets. It was the same nightmare. The visions of his gruesome experience in his military service, his fallen comrades and Nico. He couldn't get it out of his head and it probably won't until he died. Gabriel then heard his nightstand rumbling. His phone had been ringing for a while which must've woke him up. Sighing, he wiped the sweat off his hands and answered the phone.

"Hello?" Gabriel mumbled.

"You're needed for a mission."

"When?"

"Today. Bring your team in."

"Understood."

Hanging up, Gabriel let out another sigh and got off the bed, turning on the lights. The pitch black room brightened, glowing in contradiction of the dark outside. There was no rest for Blackwatch in the end.

05:10 PM, Local Time

Moscow, Russia

June, 2018

After arriving in Moscow, Gabriel and his team of five, first headed off to their place to meet for the briefing where Salvatore had arranged before-hand. McCree and Sombra were in Gabriel's car while Amélie, Moira and Marvel were in the other following Gabriel. The ride on the way there was quiet, though Gabriel wouldn't care much. The team eventually arrived at their meeting area where they would be briefed. The place looked to be an abandoned warehouse but it was a secluded base for intel gathering. Getting out of the car, Gabriel led the team into the warehouse with McCree helping carry equipment with Sombra. Inside, the warehouse was empty and looked to have been left behind in a hurry. The sun shining through the shuttered windows made up for the poor lighting. The team waited for a while, looking around the empty place.

"This looks shady. Are you sure this is the right place?" Marvel asked.

"Relax, I've been here before." Gabriel assured.

"Of course you have, my friend."

Gabriel turned around to that familiar accent. The figure walked out of the shadows from the other side and stood. He recognized that haircut from Grease, prompting a smirk from him.

"We both picked this together."

Gabriel approached him, shaking his hand before pulling in for a hug.

"It's been a long time, Boris." Gabriel said.

"Likewise, old friend."

Breaking off, Gabriel turned to his team who were waiting for an explanation.

"Everyone, this is FSB Agent Boris Kuznetsov. We trained and fought together while I was in Delta."

"К вашим услугам," Boris nodded. "I was a good friend of Nico…I'm sorry to hear about what happened in Ukraine, Gabriel."

Gabriel nodded, slightly uncomfortable. "It's fine."

"So what's the job?" Sombra asked.

Boris took a deep breath before beginning, placing his hands on his hips.

"Last month, the Russian Prime Minister had a less than pleasant encounter with an assassin during her visit in Georgia. She's a woman with a notable political and social influence on Russia. Rumor has it that there's going to be another attack and that rumor has been proven true when she received a death threat last week. Our government doesn't know about this and when I reported this to my superiors, they did not believe me and ordered me to stand down."

"Sounds like someone is trying to cover this up." Marvel said.

"More like someone wants her dead." Sombra added.

"It's true," Boris said. "The Prime Minister has always been putting people over politics which to them isn't a sensible choice and as Sombra said, I do feel like someone from the government is trying to get rid of her which is why I had to contact Blackwatch."

"And it's a good thing you did, Boris."

The group turned towards the familiar voice, leading to two figures approaching them. There were two women, one of them they already knew. It was the Prime Minister herself in her signature white, tight business suit with her dark brown hair tied to a bun to complete the look. Beside her was a tall, muscular woman whose build resembled an Olympic weightlifter. Her blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail and there was a scar above her right eye, forming an 'X'.

"Ah, yes," Boris turned towards the team to introduce the women. "May I introduce you all to the Prime Minister of Russia, Katya Volskaya and her head of security, FSO Agent Aleksandra Zaryanova or Zarya as she prefers."

Boris then approached Katya who was looking at the team.

"Miss Volskaya, this is the team I was telling you about." He said.

The sentence was implanted on Gabriel's mind for the past few years every time someone introduced them. Katya nodded, still observing them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," she then glanced away from the team. "Especially you, Sombra."

Katya's gaze locked onto the hacker. There was a pause and the team turned to Sombra who simply smirked.

"Pleasure to see you again, Kat."

"Please don't call me that."

"You two met before?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes," Zarya stepped forward. "Sombra helped us track down and capture terrorist cells across Russia last November."

"And since I'm here again, I can't wait to find out who's trying to kill a good friend of mine." Sombra said.

Gabriel nodded and turned to Boris. "So how are we doing this, Boris? You got this planned ahead?"

"Indeed," he replied. "Volskaya has a press conference in St Petersburg tomorrow, making it the perfect time for whoever's after her to strike. This is where you and your team come in. You will shadow our escort units on the way to and from the meeting in case anything happens. While they're out there, we'll need your hacker to provide eyes from the sky and keep tabs on whoever's trying to take out Volskaya."

"Alright. We can work with that."

After settling on their plan of action, Gabriel and the team left the warehouse to get some rest for the mission.

Next Day

04:50 PM, Local Time

St. Petersburg, Russia

June, 2018

Katya looked over the window where they drove down the street. The traffic was unusually less bustling than it was. She had just finished the press conference and she was gazing out the window watching people pass each other without a glance at the traffic. Security revolving her had been tightened in case of an attack with a few more vehicles added to the convoy. The Blackwatch unit were trailing behind the convoy from a further distance in an unmarked car while Sombra was watching them from the drone.

Adjusting her jacket, Katya let out a sigh as the convoy made a stop at a traffic light. Her gaze fell in the middle of the windshield in front of her. Katya then intertwined her hands and began to fidget with her fingers. Something was giving her anxiety. The nerve in her left hand was buzzing. Even though there was no suspicious activity throughout the day, she didn't buy it. If nothing happens then, it would happen later.

"Is something troubling you, ma'am?"

Turning to the voice, Katya glanced at Zarya who was sitting next to her. As a bodyguard and a close friend, she was always there for her whenever she wasn't in the mood or felt like crumbling.

"I'm okay, Zarya. Thanks for your concern." Katya assured.

The convoy moved and they were back on the road again. The silence remained for a while. Katya then began to reminisce. It was often a bad thing. Anytime she reminisced, the first thing that would come up would be something that was troubling her. The image of the death threat popped up in her mind.

"This must be retaliation." Katya muttered.

Zarya glanced at her.

"What do you mean?"

"The sins I have committed to make Russia a safer country. The relationships I have shattered to undo Stalin's actions."

There was silence between the two. Katya wasn't expecting Zarya to be on her side on anything political. She heard Zarya sigh and felt her hand touch her knee.

"I don't agree with what you've done but I know that you did what needed to be done. But no matter what you do, I will stay by your side and make sure that nothing happens-"

Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted in front of them, startling Katya as well as cutting off her thoughts. The first car burst into flames and flipped over, landing upside down. The driver then hit the brakes, stopping abruptly. The tires screeched as they halted.

"Змей в Арктику, статус, окончен! (Serpent to Arctic Team, status, over!)" Zarya shouted in her earpiece.

There was no response from the first vehicle. Zarya then shouted something Katya couldn't hear. Everything around her was beginning to close in on her. The noises faded away. This is the retaliation. This is her consequence.

Everything was happening in a blink of an eye. There were two SUVs that stopped in front of the convoy and the doors swung open. A group of men in balaclavas wielding assault rifles emerged and aimed at the convoy. A barrage of gunfire rained upon them. Katya ducked behind the front seats and covered herself as bullets hit the windows like sponges. Thankfully, the bulletproof vehicle was able to sustain against a hail of gunfire like this but they can't stay any longer.

"Уведите нас отсюда, Кирилл! (Get us out of here, Kiril!)" Zarya yelled.

"Роджер! (Roger!)" he responded.

The car began to reverse from the attackers, weaving past deserted cars on the road with the rear escort vehicle behind them. As Katya peered up from the seat, she turned to her right and noticed a vehicle heading towards them at full speed. Before she knew it, the vehicle smashed into the car and everything went black.

The team was already on their way to the Prime Minister as soon as they heard the explosion. Gabriel could hear the sounds of chaos and panic from the radio of the FSO team.

"VIP хит! VIP хит! (VIP is hit! VIP is hit!)"

Gabriel hit the pedal, bypassing vehicles through the almost empty street, heading for the Prime Minister as fast as possible.

"Shadow 4 to Shadow Team, hostiles are closing in on the VIP! Get your asses down there now!"

"Copy! We're on our way!" Gabriel responded before pulling on his mask.

They managed to arrive at the scene. At a distance, fire and smoke was drifting up from one of the escort vehicles and the Prime Minister's vehicle was still there but it's been tumbled over. A pickup truck was parked near the Prime Minister's vehicle with several masked men heading towards it. Parking the car next to the remaining escort vehicle, Gabriel and the team hopped out with their weapons ready. They were equipped with suppressed SIG Sauer weapons, different from their usual arms. As the team headed towards the convoy, Amélie approached one of the FSO agents taking cover behind the vehicle.

"How bad is it?" She asked.

"First vehicle was hit by some sort of bomb and the VIP was hit by an enemy vehicle." The agent told her.

"Thanks. We'll take it from here."

Amélie did a quick inspection of the scene before turning to the team with a plan.

"Shadow 6, 7, flank them. The rest of us provide suppressive fire so we can reach the VIP."

Marvel and Moira nodded before heading off to flank them. By the time the team were ready, the attackers noticed them and charged towards the team. The team opened fire, using deserted vehicles as cover. Gabriel managed to take out two attackers, before taking cover behind a red car. As he waited for the right time, he noticed Marvel and Moira making their way down the path nearby.

Gabriel then stood up and returned fire, taking out a few more attackers with single burst rounds. He caught sight of an attacker stepping onto the roof of a car with a grenade. He blasted him in the neck before he could even throw. As the attacker fell off, the grenade exploded. The fiery blast consumed the vehicles and the attackers near the proximity. Getting out of cover, Gabriel advanced past the vehicles and faced more attackers heading their way.

Gabriel shot two attackers with multiple rounds, emptying the magazine. Taking cover behind a van, he removed the magazine and clipped on a new one before he heard footsteps to his right. Gabriel turned around and aimed, shooting an attacker in the stomach. He then approached the attacker and finished him off with two rounds near the head before he could fight back.

Gabriel peered through the front of the van and fired upon another few attackers as McCree rushed towards them while firing rapid bursts. The attackers hid behind vehicles from the gunfire. Gabriel noticed Marvel and Moira from the other side, about to open fire.

"Reloadin'!" McCree called as he took cover behind another car.

Gabriel moved out of cover and noticed the attackers emerging from cover to fight. Gabriel fired multiple rounds, taking out two of them with the rest being taken care of by the team. He then heard the tires screeching from a distance and noticed one of the attackers' SUVs speeding away from the scene.

"Clear!"

The team caught up with each other and approached the crash site. Marvel and Moira were first to get there while the rest set a perimeter around them. They found Zarya crawling halfway out of the car with the door ripped open and a smoking pistol on her right hand. A thin stream of blood was sliding down her face from her temple.

"Zarya! Zarya!" Marvel called.

Gabriel noticed one of the attackers on the ground near the car with a bullet to his lower back, trying to crawl away. As he finished him off with a round to the head, Marvel reached Zarya and helped her up.

"You alright?" Marvel asked.

"Da," Zarya answered through her gritted teeth. "But they got the Prime Minister."

Marvel nodded before reaching for his comms.

"Shadow 4, this is Shadow 7. Hostiles got the VIP. Can you track down that vehicle?"

"Already on it," Sombra answered. "You guys might wanna start catching up to them before they go dark."

"Copy, we're on the move," Amélie said and turned to the team. "Lets go!"

As they made their way back to their car, they noticed Zarya behind them.

"I'm coming too." Zarya said as she adjusted her Kevlar.

Gabriel glanced at the others, awaiting approval.

"Alright. Let's go!" Gabriel nodded.

After getting the remainder FSO agents to contain the vicinity, the team reached their car, a black seven-seater Renault Duster and jumped in. Gabriel ignited the engine and took it by reverse, driving off to the streets. Speeding through light traffic, Gabriel scanned the road for any sign of the attackers' vehicle.

"Shadow Team, I managed to I.D the vehicle with the VIP inside. You're looking for a red Jeep Wrangler without a registration plate." Sombra said.

Gabriel took a right turn and surprisingly, he caught sight of the red Jeep speeding away in the midst of the light traffic.

"There it is!" Zarya called, pointing at the car.

Gabriel reached for his comms. "Shadow 1, I got visual on the red Jeep."

Hitting the pedal, he chased after the Jeep driving erratically. One of the attackers emerged from the window and opened fire at them. The shots rang across the street, scaring away people watching the chase. Shortly, the attacker got back inside, possibly running out of ammo.

"Take the shot, Lacroix!" Gabriel ordered.

"Copy!" Amélie replied as she opened the window.

She mounted the MPX on the window and aimed for the tires. She opened fire, hitting the front and back tires. The Jeep lost control and skidded to the right, crashing into a parked car. Gabriel stopped the car near the Jeep as the alarm of the parked car blared. Several people began to approach the crash, hoping to help whoever's inside.

"Zarya, get these people outta here." Gabriel said as he got out of the SUV.

"Da."

As Zarya ordered the people away from the scene, Gabriel and the team advanced towards the Jeep with their weapons fixated on them. The door opened and a leg stepped out. Katya came out with one of the remaining attackers holding her in front. The barrel of his pistol was pressed to the side of her head. The sounds of shock erupted from the crowd.

"Отвали! Или я убью это (Back off! Or I'll kill this-)"

A gunshot erupted. Two bullets hit the face and the attacker slumped over, pulling Katya down with him. The crowd cried out in shock. Gabriel wasn't the one who shot him though. He glanced over and noticed both Amélie and Zarya's weapons with smoke coming out of the barrel. As a former Delta, Gabriel admitted that these two would make his former buddies look like stormtroopers.

"Goddamn." McCree muttered, alongside Marvel nodding. Even these two were impressed.

Lowering their weapons, Zarya rushed up to Katya who pushed the body away. The team checked their surroundings as the crowd began dispersing.

"Are you alright, Katya?" She asked, getting her up.

"I'm fine." The Prime Minister nodded and then turned to Gabriel. "Thank you."

"The job isn't over until we get you outta here." Gabriel replied.

"Of course. Let's get out of here."

The team got back into the car with Katya and Zarya joining in while McCree and Marvel sat in the boot. He drove the team away from the area and they headed back to their destination.

"Shadow 4 to Shadow 1," Sombra said. "I found something interesting."

9:50 PM, Local Time

Moscow, Russia

June, 2018

Viačaslaû Tsyganov yawned as he finished his nightly tea. He needed to loosen some tension after his meeting with the Council. The T.V was still airing the night news, including the coverage of the Volskaya attack in St Petersburg. Letting out a gruff sigh, he adjusted his receding hair and stood up from his chair. Suddenly, the room went dark. Everything was pitch black and the T.V was shut off.

Tsyganov looked around. It must've been another power outage but there was something off with it. The suburb he lived in had just gotten maintenance from the electricity technician and the only way a power outage would happen was if there was heavy rain. Setting his teacup on the side, Tsyganov tried to move through the dark with his weak eyesight. He was way too old to navigate through the dark. He lifted his arms to feel anything in front of him but there was nothing to hold on.

Tsyganov held onto the corner of the wall and suddenly, the lights were back on. His eyes gazed around the room, familiarizing himself. Maybe his neighbor was foolish to turn on more than three appliances, that frail idiot. Letting go of the wall, Tsyganov sighed and turned to get his tea. He picked up his teacup along with the saucer and turned around, only to freeze and drop them onto the carpet floor. His eyes widened at that unexpected sight.

There was a hooded figure, pointing a suppressed gun at him from the other side of the room. He noticed that he was wearing a balaclava with a skull painted on it. Tsyganov didn't hear him enter. His house was fitted with heavy security.

"Hola, Senator." The intruder said in English.

"Кто ты, черт возьми? (Who the hell are you?)" Tsyganov asked.

"Друг ФСБ. (A friend of the FSB.)"

So he can speak Russian. He had no idea who he was but he could tell he wasn't Russian. Whoever he was, he must've been hired by the FSB. The intruder walked over to him, still aiming the gun at Tsyganov.

"Sit." He ordered.

He can't escape this but he wanted to hear his part so he played along. Sitting back down on his chair, he looked up at the intruder, feeling his glare from his eyes. A band of sweat oozed from his forehead. He stayed silent, waiting for him to speak.

"The attempt on Katya Volskaya's life was smart, hiring the ISIL-CP terrorists to do the work," He said, taking out a phone from his jacket and tossing it to Tsyganov's feet. "But paying them first was a big mistake when we traced the payment back to you. That was very idiotic...especially for the Russian Senator."

Staring down at the phone, he could see an image of the transaction. Now he sees why he's here. Tsyganov looked up and scowled.

"You have no clue of what she's done." He growled.

"Actually I do," the intruder said. "I'll admit, Volskaya could've done better but at least she did what she had to do to keep Russia from turning into another Soviet Union where the second Cold War would've happened. Hell, she would've gotten my vote for the next President of Russia if she chose to. And as for you? You're just a pathetic politician who abuses power and cowers behind terrorists to do your dirty work."

Tsyganov ignored his insult. "And you think killing me will solve all of this? I have friends who will finish what I've star-"

Gabriel closed the door behind him, holstering his pistol behind his jacket. He wasn't interested in Tsyganov's empty threats so he put a bullet to his head to shut him up. Taking off his mask, Gabriel headed for the front gate down at the hill without worrying about the cameras, thanks to Sombra's intervention. Once he was in a safe distance from the house, Gabriel took out his phone and dialed.

"This is Reyes. It's done."

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wesker20 · 5 years

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Fallen Hero 1.5 Episode 7: Memories of a Deadman

Years ago, Night – Amelia Neighborhood – Puerto Rico

There was little you could have done different. In fact, there was nothing you could have done differently. Your plan was ready and able, Zeta was on a roof overlooking the neighborhood, Alpha was on the back of the house, and Kappa and you were inside sneaking in. Kappa turned invisible as always, while you began sending small telepathic waves that made the goons not notice you. Everything was going fine until you heard gun shots and shouting.

The place turned into chaos, Kappa and you were left staring at one another wondering what the hell had just happened. Not that your confusion lasted long of course as Zeta contacted all three of you and let you know that Delta had begun his attack. Way earlier than he told you. The worst part was that you knew that Delta was not smart enough to lie, which meant he just received orders to attack sooner; probably General Asshole. The attack forced you and Kappa to move fast, getting in before Jeremy could escape. Kappa, of course, went faster. You had forgotten how fast she could move. Even with his teleportation, Zeta could not keep up with how fast she reacted. Between the two of you, you left a trail of bodies behind as you made your way to the bedroom as fast as you could.

By the time you reached the room, however, the bed has been moved and the secret tunnel opened. Kappa and you rushed into it where a big fight began. It was chaotic to say the least, cramped into a small tunnel with dozens of goons standing between you and your target; and all wanted you both dead. In this field of battle, Kappa shined. With her speed and invisibility, she sliced and diced with her sword, cutting down her opponents with no trouble, dancing in between their attacks, tricking them into hitting each other, cutting open their necks and stomachs, painting the tunnel red with blood. By the end of it, a dozen goons laid dead atop of each other, her sole blue figure standing among them victorious, and your target just some meters away, stunned. He tried one last ditch effort to defend himself, shooting a blast from a strange weapon you did not recognized. Kappa dodged effortlessly but you did not fared as well, taking the brunt of the blast. You were surprised to find yourself relatively unharmed, physically anyway. Mentally speaking, you had the biggest headache in the world. And you could not feel any thoughts at all. Not Kappa’s, or Jeremy’s, or even Alpha’s as you finally noticed her standing beside you, worry written all over her face.

You were later informed that the weapon temporarily disabled your abilities. That was just the prototype. The “Guardianes” were planning to mass produce this. You wondered where they got this type of tech but that’s for your owners to figure out. You did your job, as good as could be done given the circumstances. The battle had attracted the attention of neighbors and soon probably the media. You’ve already been cleared and ready and you can feel your powers slowly coming back. You stare at the barricade made of cars and trucks, where people stand wondering what just happened. Zeta, Alpha and you stood in the open, your gear covering all of your bodies so no one could tell what you were. But Kappa was inside a truck and covered to make sure no one saw her skin. Too public. The higher ups were not going to be happy about this.

And of course the general was the first one who’s voice you heard. But before he could approach you Mrs. Trevor stood in front of him. You could not hear what they were saying but you could tell they were arguing. Trevor turned and made a motion for Alpha to come. You followed her too, curious to see what was going to happen.

“Unit Alpha 203 report,” he said with an accusatory tone, as if he expected her to deliver all the evidence he needed. Alpha reported everything that happened, taking extra care to make sure Delta was the one that carried the blame, and in turn whoever ordered him to attack earlier. It took all of your strength that day to hold back a grin. “Unit Alpha, if I find out you are reporting wrong-” he begins but Trevor stops him from saying anything further. You and Alpha traded glances; you were not the only one holding back a grin.

Unsatisfied but defeated the good General turns to walk away. But he leaves with a warning, “The cuckoos program is a danger General. It is unwise to teach these weapons emotions and have them live among people. One of these days I’ll prove it and take this whole farce down. When that happens you will fall with them.”

It was strange, you remember, to hear handler Trevor being addressed by her rank. To you she was always handler Trevor or Mrs. Trevor. You always wondered why, why she never asked you to address her as such. Truth is you never knew who Vanessa Trevor truly was. At the time you respected her, you looked up to her. She always protected all four of you.

Hideout, present – 8:30pm

But now you wonder if she ever did really cared or if she was simply manipulating all of you. Out of all the people in your past, she’s the only one you are not sure if you want to hurt. You stare at her picture on the file you paid a hacker to get. It was expensive; after all hacking into government files is the equivalent of putting your head on a guillotine, but you had to. There’s only one other person left alive from what happened all those years ago. It comes back to you, the blood, the screams, your screams, the fire surrounding you, Trevor aiming a gun at you before telling you to go and never come back. The look on her face, cold and calculating, but the tone of her voice betrayed some care, whether that was genuine or not you don’t know. At the time you did not thought of reading her mind.

You pass the page to see her accolades ever since. Despite what the General said, Vanessa Trevor did not fall, she rose. Despite the fall of your unit the Cuckoo program continued and she got promoted as one of those responsible for its success, even though she neither founded it nor was the head of it. You got to love politics. Overall she turned things around better than you did.

But you did not get this to reminisce of those times, when you were little more than a slave. You got this because one person from your past is after you, and you want to know what happened after you escaped. Still, your hand shakes as you hold your untraceable phone. You swore you would never visit those years again, that you would forget about it all, should you really go back now? It’s too early and you could probably take the voice down without knowing what happened. But you want to know, you need to know what happened. You know what probably happened, they were taken and tortured. “Reeducated” as they called it, their minds erased to make space for a new one. But after that, you don’t know. And why would you? You left, abandoned them, because you wanted something. Because you dared to wish.

Years ago, the Farm – 9:30pm

“What do you want, Jeremy?” Alpha asked as the two of you sat on the rooftop. You had snuck out, as you both did several times over and just stare outside in the night. Kappa always said that you were being too reckless and one day you will be caught. Still, she along with Zeta always took guard, and sometimes even joined you two. Despite the danger, you liked it, being here, outside of your four walls room, not being cramped with the other Re-genes. Alpha knew that, she knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Are you seriously going to keep going with that?” you asked. As much as you liked having a name, Alpha used it way too freely and too much for your liking. You have barely gotten used to it yourself, but she appears to have gotten used to it in mere seconds.

“Yep. That’s your name now, remember? And you did not answer my question.”

“Just being here, quiet. And not answering stupid questions.”

She looked at you and chuckled. “I meant out there. You clearly want something out there.”

You thought about her question for a few moments. What did you wanted? “Have you ever thought about all of this? About us? We constantly go out there and see how those people live, we are trained to feel how they feel and yet we are here and they are out there,” you told her. It was true. They trained you to read body language, relate to others, understand how a person feels, but to do so they had to teach you to feel it as well. It turns out you cannot make a good infiltrator that does not understand emotions. Otherwise they might as well send a regular Re-gene to do the job. But that training was a double edged sword, the more you felt, the more you wanted. You can’t just make someone feel and tell them they should ignore those feelings. And so you felt, and so did Alpha, and Zeta, and even Kappa. You felt, you cared, you loved.

“Sometimes,” Alpha finally answered after a minute. “Sometimes I want to run and see how everything is. But then I remember.”

You stared at her with curiosity. “Remember what?”

She turns back to you, the softest look you have ever seen on her face. “That you guys are here. No way would I leave without you guys.” You smiled back at her. Of course she wouldn’t. She would never abandon any of you, and whatever any of you wanted, she would try her hardest to get. Damn the consequences.

Present

You stare at the phone, Trevor’s number already dialed; all that is left is press green. Your breath slows down, your body freezes, a drop of sweat slides down you face, and your eyes twitch. Seconds turn into minutes, their faces flash on your mind, Alpha’s smiling and cheerful face, with a hint of strength hidden beneath, Kappa’s cold but soft stare, always hiding her emotions, and Zeta’s eyes avoiding yours, looking the other way, face on the verge of panicking but still smiling that timid smile. They all flash in your head, one after the other, memories of times long gone, times of fun and excitement. Times of sadness and despair, hugs long forgotten, cries long buried, kisses long erased, memories of a dead man.

“Yes?” her voice sounds on the other end, older, stronger.

“It’s been a while Mrs. Trevor.” The silence tells you that she recognizes your voice. Could she really remember it after all these years?

“I thought we would never speak again,” she says, her voice cold and professional, no hint of frustration or anger.

“So did I, but something came up.”

She snorts, almost as if expecting that response from you. “You want to meet, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You are not afraid that I will set a trap and capture you again? I doubt you’ll escape a third time.”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m not?”

“I would tell you you’re a damn idiot, and learned nothing of what I taught you about trusting people,” she says with a hint of anger.

“I never said anything about trusting. I said I’m not afraid that you will set a trap. You wouldn’t.”

“How do you know?” she says, you hear water on the other end, probably from the sink.

“You win nothing.” Silence reigns for the next few seconds before she finally agrees. You agree on a meeting spot on a dock next week. Even if you know she will not set an ambush, you still decide to send your crew this week to scout out the area, just in case. In the meantime you decide to finish your “interrogation” of the man your crew brought. He knew quite a bit, you ripped out of his mind transactions made, to a Mr. Alex Moore. You checked him out but it turned out to be a bust, a fake person, a fake account. One of many. After all, money had to go somewhere, especially when you did mercenary work. That is why you could not find much about the Voice, they were a mystery, an assassin, hired only by the richest of the richest. Interesting. They took employment as an assassin in order to get the money they needed to pull off what they are doing now. You almost feel bad for not thinking about it yourself, definitely would have made it far easier to hire Mortum.

Admiration aside, The Voice made one mistake; they trusted this guy for one of their accounts; one that you just checked and to your pleasant surprise it was filled with enough money to keep you going for several months. That makes you wonder if the other suspects are also responsible for other accounts. But you doubt the Voice is just going to sit and watch as you steal their money. By this point the money must have been transferred to another account. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve scored a victory. Now all that is left is move to the next piece; The Army of Mastermind. And you have the perfect person in mind for the job.

Rangers HQ – Day

The fight between Argent, Mastermind and Red Doll plays out on the screen time and again. Argent watches with a frown, arms crossed, finger tapping her arm slowly after every move made in the fight. She turns away from it, disinterested already after hours of reviewing the footage. She stares out of the window, into the city. “Where the hell are you?” she whispers. She looks down and notices someone on the sidewalk, someone familiar. It’s one of Mastermind’s henchmen. She turns in a flash and heads out of the room and outside, ignoring everyone around her. As she arrives at the lobby she hears a familiar voice, it is that man, the one Ortega has a crush on, what was his name? It does not matter. She steps out of the HQ and across the street, but the henchman is not there.

She looks around, ignoring the people pointing at her and searches for him, until… there entering an alleyway. She sprints after him. This reeks of an ambush, she knows, so she takes careful but confident steps. She is surprised to see him just standing there the middle of the alley. “If this is supposed to be an ambush, you are doing a very poor job,” she says, but not to him. She expects to see Mastermind spring out from whenever they may be.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s just me,” he says, face still, no emotion.

“Your boss sends you… you, to fight me?” she scoffs and chuckles, at the same time.

“No. I’m here to give you something you might want to know.”

“And what is that?” she says, taking one step closer, her fingers twitching, itching to get its claws out.

“Bloodmoon Ave. 430.”

“What’s that?”

“You want to find out, go there,” he says, turns, and leaves. Argent lets him. He is inconsequential, not the one she wants. Is that where they will be? Mastermind? But if so, are they setting a trap? It’s way too obvious though, and if she has learned anything, it’s that Mastermind is anything but obvious. So what is their plan? What do they seek? And why do they want her at that place? Maybe there is something there. If it was not important to them, then they would have never told her. If so, what? What is there? But what if it’s actually a trap? What if they expect her to think it wasn’t a trap only to ambush her there? But this could be her only chance to finally get them. And if she does not go, she could lose that chance.

She retreats back to HQ, determination in her face. Right beside her passes him again, Ortega’s friend.

“Everything alright?” he asks, but she ignores him. “Fine keep ignoring me,” she hears him say, but it doesn’t matter, what matters is Mastermind.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero: retribution #fanfiction #mc #oc #past hurts #lady argent #i'm almost done with this semester and summer is just one class. so i'll be able to write future episodes faster #please let me know what you think #enjoy

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douxreviews · 5 years

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Gotham - ‘Pena Dura’ Review

Eduardo: "You left the army for this city?" Jim: "It grows on you."

How right Jim is here. And while 'Pena Dura' is actually a pretty outstanding follow-up to last week's episode, it also bears a disheartening feature often found in Michael Crichton novels; it builds up some thrilling concepts for the first two-thirds, but the actual executions of said concepts in the last third are quite lackluster.

Still pursuing the unknown culprit behind Haven's detonation, Jim Gordon and Bullock follow a lead given by Barbara on a dealer of RPG's. Unfortunately, the confrontation with the dealer himself is cut short when a battalion called Delta Force drops in and axes off Gordon's only lead. As it turns out, Delta Force is led by Eduardo Dorrance (Shane West), a former comrade of Gordon's when he was still in the army. And right away, I marked Eduardo as a character drafted to inevitably betray Gordon at some point down the line, because even if Gotham chose to keep West's eventual transformation into Bane confidential, he still reeks of someone you could just all too easily see double-crossing our protagonists; he's enthusiastic, he's chummy right from the get-go with Gordon, he gets a lot of the zingy one-liners once in action, in fact, he's too much of all these things. It's as if he's almost too eager to be here in Gotham City mowing down its costumed gangsters one by one, because he's got some kind of clandestine government cabal pulling his strings. But now I'm just getting ahead of myself here...

Quite surprisingly, I expected Gotham to drag out Gordon learning that Nygma was the one behind Haven's detonation by at least one more episode, but in fact, the pace doesn't drag too much after Eduardo steps in, and he and Gordon learn from the RPG dealer's logbook that Nygma was his most recent client. Gordon and Delta Force try to arrest Nygma at his safehouse, but Nygma is able to make his getaway by activating an IED below Eduardo's feet that will go off if Nygma is shot down. I must confess that this scene alone gave Nygma the essence of The Riddler more so than anything Season 4 did for his character. He's got his massive ego back, he's rigged his safehouse with booby traps, and of course, it takes the solving of a riddle too to deactivate the IED. As Gordon appropriately puts it - "there's always a puzzle with Nygma."

It's becoming a bit muddled though as to who exactly is in control of Nygma's body now. At the beginning of Season 5, it seemed that it was the Riddler trying to retrace his steps and learn what Ed has been doing during the blackouts, but in 'Pena Dura', the geeky CSI Ed is now the one the focus is on. What's more, Gotham seems to be doing a bit of retooling to the Ed personality as well; he's suddenly aghast to learn he was behind the bombing of Haven and the deaths of hundreds of civilians, yet he had no issue with making a name for himself as a feared criminal mastermind back in Season 3 by mercilessly stabbing a stage performer.

With Nygma on the run, Gordon puts the word out around the city that Nygma's the most likely culprit behind the attack on Haven. As a result, it isn't long before Nygma is captured and bound by a group of stereotypes, evidently intent on avenging their dog that was killed in the attack, and tortured through electroshock administration. In the process, buried memories start rising to Nygma's conscious, most prominently, a vision of Oswald promising to 'fix' Nygma. Believing Oswald to be the one behind his constant blackouts, Nygma engineers another escape and confronts Oswald, in a much-anticipated reunion for many of the show's viewers. Regardless of whether or not there's meant to be some sexual undertones in the conversations between these two, there's no denying that their bickering and their scene-chewing is always a welcome highlight. I got a kick out of how Oswald basically admitted too that only because he shot Butch last year did Nygma by default fill the slot of being his 'best friend'.

I've also grown fond of the increasing competitiveness between these two over the last year. I don't think they'll ever be able to return to the relationship they once held back in the beginning of Season 3, but they at least now retain a mutual respect for the other. They'd never go out of their way to kill the other, but they also definitely would not hesitate now to throw them under the bus if it meant saving their own skin, as Oswald does moments later when Delta Force shows up on his doorstep. Oswald tells Gordon that Nygma's going after Hugo Strange next, since Strange was the one Oswald ordered to 'fix' Nygma. I also haven't forgotten that Oswald also asked Strange to 'fix' Lee Thompkins, but the show seems to have, so let's move on.

Strange, greeting Nygma with an impeccable George Takei imitation, admits he is also unaware that Nygma has been blacking out, but confesses to having installed some sort of microchip that is subject to remote control in Nygma's head while he was in the process of being resurrected. Yet Strange oddly enough is also not the one who has been controlling Nygma. In a twist of events that now makes the twists of How I Met Your Mother's finale look rather superb, it turns out Delta Force and their shadowy government-affiliated leader Walker have been controlling Nygma the entire time. But here's the darnedest thing - the eyeroll and exhale this reveal got out of me wasn't a result of the twist being obvious - it's just that I feel Gotham has earned its place as being a series that should have shelved plot points like this. If Gotham remained in the confines of the grounded cop drama it was attempting to be way back in Season 1, then a reveal like this would have felt more accommodated to the show's nature. But Gotham is well past that point, what with their featuring of laughing gas, serial killers with pig masks, shapeshifters and countless resurrections, I know it can do more than just the evil-government-conspiracy that wants to clean house shtick.

Meanwhile, at the Sirens' club, Selina is being celebrated for killing the clearly not-dead Jeremiah Valeska. Funny how Bruce and Selina are always attempting to alleviate the other in Barbara's club, and this felt like a nice parallel to their encounter back in Season 4's 'Pieces of a Broken Mirror'. As much as Bruce wants though to convince Selina she's not a cold-blooded killer, Selina's only form of rebuttal is by trying to - once again, no less - demonstrate to Bruce that she doesn't give a hoot about anyone else except herself. This blather doesn't strike me as genuine though, as much as it more feels like Selina's just trying to save face. I also trust in Bruce to know Selina well enough to see through her jibber-jabber. Jeremiah himself turns out to have survived Selina's stabbings through the use of some nifty body armor. As commonplace as that solution does sound, we finally get a laugh out of Jeremiah by the episode's end. Something else I haven't seen others comment on is how it sounds almost as if Cameron Monaghan is evolving his Jeremiah voice with every episode. By now, he's done a phenomenal job at distinguishing his performance as Jeremiah in every aspect from his performance as Jerome.

To capitalize on my earlier metaphor, 'Pena Dura' has a first-rate setup that's unfortunately dampened in the end by its anti-climatic resolutions - our big baddie for the final season looks to be our own government, Nygma's been reduced essentially to a murder-bot hitman, and Jeremiah survives a stab wound to the chest (he even mentions that one Selina's attacks missed the armor) merely because the story needs him to. Not to mention that the cat-and-mouse game of pursuing Nygma and Strange could have been trimmed down by ten minutes.

Other Thoughts: • I don't consider myself much of a dog person, but if something ever happens to Oswald's bulldog, Gotham's showrunners will be receiving a vent-heavy letter penned by yours truly.

• I thought I heard Eduardo misspeak at first, and refer to Walker as 'Waller', leading me to suspect that Gotham was actually in the midst of introducing to us Amanda Waller and conceiving their own lineup of the Suicide Squad.

Aaron Studer loves spending his time reading, writing and defending the existence of cryptids because they can’t do it themselves.

#Gotham #James Gordon #Bruce Wayne #Edward Nygma #Selina Kyle #Harvey Bullock #Oswald Cobblepot #Alfred Pennyworth #DC Comics #Batman #Gotham Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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fakesurprise · 5 years

Text

Debriefing and Destressing

The prequel stories aren’t really post-cyberpunk; cybernetics exist and are used, but definitely inferiors to Other Things. Basically, cybernetics is now so cheap the rich refuse to use it.

My boss has an office. No one else bothered with such things: you just reportrf over the Edos Array and conference that way. But Alder had an actual an actual room with chairs and a table he insists on sitting behind. I’d heard of him before he was assigned my handler, so I never bothered to protest. It’s a waste of time even by government standards, but there were far worse ways to waste time.

I entered to discover that he has altered things since my last visit; there was a replica fireplace against a wall with two comfy chairs beside it and a small side table between them. The table contained a bottle of alcohol and two glasses, both of which erre poured.

“Stevens. Please join me.”

I walked over and sat down. My system were too efficient for alcohol to do anything to me, and I barely taste it, but I had a sip anyway as the chair groaned a little. Even without the cumbersome battle suite I wore earlier, I had far too many implants to be light. “Sir. You wanted my report in person?”

“You did survive meeting Lady Tower. That is our official designation for her; she has enough aliases and use-names in the Array and Network proper that we just made up our own name over her preference for locations high above the cities of Edos. We know she uses a medchair and has some older cybernetics, the latter at odds with the kind of repairs and aid she has offered to others. There isn’t another private contractor on record in our nation who can successfully reactivate any soldier who has gone civilian. So, yes, in person.”

Alder is older, but he’d seemed to be about seventy for at least thirty years. I had no idea how old he actually was; I suspected far younger than many thought, and that the penchant for antiquities like a desk and office was just to throw people off their game. But I had no proof, and thankfully no need to look for it.

I sat my drink down. “August Zim is dead, which we suspected. Lady said others have survived, though not the extent of what she was able to recover for them. She did claim it would be almost impossible to do the same for me, which fits with the record of not lying about what she can do. She had a small lab in a tower in the north-delta sector. I marked the location in the briefing I sent earlier, though I imagine she’s long gone. She accepted the deal to travel to Elmith and let us know the outcome of her activities to date, but only as it relates to reactivation.”

“Curious. We did not expect it to be so easy.”

“It wasn’t. The battlesuit was destroyed, and I only survived because I tortured a boy.”

“That you left out of the report,” he said dryly.

“The boy was young, with an electromesh of military-grade quality both he and Lady Tower could use effectively. A shunt in his stomach for food, and difficulty breathing both pointing to damage from gasses. Also an artificial voicebox that was almost good enough to fool a decent asi. He also sold his eyes to her, and they were used as cameras. I am uncertain if that was another arrangement, but she did wish to preserve his life and refuses to leave Edos until she has finished making his voice work successfully.”

“The latter is unexpected.”

I nodded. “We knew she kept victims or veterans of the wars at her homes as servants and weapons, but not that she actually cared if they died. I am uncertain if she did or simply wanted the contract finished as a matter of professional pride.”

“Someone, ah, gifted with an electromesh would benefit more from having a stomach and other parts regrown than a shunt and artificial voicebox.”

“I thought so as well, so I looked into the issue. The mesh would interfere with growing new organs. Connecting them into it would be very expensive, and ensuring they could survive the mesh would mean testing that would drive the cost up to levels even the military would hesitate at paying out. The lack of a voice drastically limits interaction with an assistant, personal or otherwise, and the Array and technology in general. There are artificial voiceboxes and voice modulators that can work with an assistant, but this one also has to survive a mesh and controlling the mesh requires a very good assistant, hence the problem.”

“That is a complicated outlier, and one i imagine just selling your eyes does not pay for.” “I suspect she has taken it on as a challenge. I plan to return later today and see what is left of the Tower. If the boy has been left behind, he can at least explain some things.”

“And the Lady?”

“Did use a medchair, but had perfectly viable cybernetic legs, and an arm she pretended had latency issues it did not. I can only assume it is for matters of practicality, and helps attract people like the boy.”

“Ah. So that hey believe they are helping her, and she uses outlier cases to experiment on?”

I nodded. “It does seem likely, sir.” I had another sip of the drink because Alder was waiting for me to.

“And you felt there was no reason to terminate the target”

“Not in this case, no. I used a civilian battle suit, which was – limiting. I retain most of the enhanciles I had during the war; it reminded me of not having them. The Lady is hardly unique in what she offers, or the desperate veterans who want what they feel are their bodies back. To be rendered slower, with less senses, less awareness, less strength: to go from grace to a clunky body so expensive to maintain. It is a hard transition with so much of what was meant for war disabled.

“And even if they are activated somewhat, weapons run out and bodies require repairs. Ironically even more once those systems are active again. Over twenty enforcers were lost taking down Li-owen a month ago, which led to this investigation. But if Li-owen had been left to just show off and be clever and not forced into battle with government forces –.” I shrugged. “A week. Two at tops before things broke that needed repairs that could not be afforded.”

“Which was what led to to the attack by Li-owen on the hospital and the resultant deaths, Stevens.”

“I am not saying Li-owen was in the right at all. Far from it. Some veterans cope just fine with civilian life and limits. Others do not, and some system must be in place for them.”

“Your mandate is purely investigative. But continue.”

“Let them retain enough to not feel – limited. And limit them to occupations that suit those skills. People would pay decent credit for cage fights, Anders.”

Anders took a slow sip of his drink. “There are many illegal ones, but making them legal would – lose that outlet for people.”

“Something like that might work. I don’t know. Do you need anything else?” “No.”

I nodded and left, heading two levels below to a gym. It was small, not quite military-quality. But the targets were solid and fast, and I spent a good half hour killing fake enemies and pushing myself. Reminding myself that I wasn’t limited, getting rid of how even my eyes had been less in the battle suit by shooting targets for a good five minutes.

I didn’t break anything, which should appeal to the psychbot assigned to me.

I put my weapons away, heading to a locker for a simple outfit and then back out into the city to check out what had become of the Tower.

Not needing to sleep had uses, but unfortunately I was exempt from overtime pay. Not that the pay mattered in this. We do what we must, and only after do we deal with it with.

I wasn’t intending to deal with anything I didn’t have to. The past wasn’t anything I was keen to embrace again. But that didn’t keep it in the past.

And the war cast shadows that nothing I did might ever erase.

#writing #prose #survivors #prequel story #post cyberpunk #biotech

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dearchuchu · 5 years

Text

Long version.

I'm going to assume anyone who wants the long version is going to read the short version. So I'll skip what was covered there and go into the details.

I had mini bottles, but I drank them all by dinner time with the idea I would just pick up some more for the long flight in San Fransisco. The closest liquor store was about a mile and a half away from our hotel out by the airport, and Mandy, who didn't know my plan didn't like my plan. She also didn't like that I drank my mini bottles that were for the big flight. I always planned on this, but neglected to tell her.

An Uber to the liquor store was 7 dollars one way. Man San Fransisco is expensive. I told Mandy, who was not happy with the idea of spending 14 dollars to go buy mini bottles that I already had (and drank), to go spend MORE money on MORE mini bottles. I, however disagreed.

I decided, it's only a mile and a half, I'll walk. 50 minutes or so, no big deal. Mandy wasn't keen on that idea, but it was much cheaper than Uber. Then I remembered, "Wait, didn't bird start here?" Yes the scooter company bird is in San Fransisco. I said, "I'll just scoot up there!" Alas, no bird scooters out by the airport hotels. Then I remembered I have lime on my phone too! So I loaded up the lime app, and sure enough, there was a lime scooter on my way!

I located the lime, and it's a bike. I think, "that's fine, biking will still cut off at least half the time!" I unlock it, and the lights don't work. It's night time now, so it's dark. I thought, "Wow, this isn't very safe. You'd think lime would have lights on their bikes." I ride up to the liquor store, which ended up being in a nice section of suburban San Francisco. Once in the well lit area I noticed the bike said "ebike" on it, and I saw the motor for pedal assist. It turns out the lime I got was a lemon. It did have lights, the bike was just broken.

I get my WAY overpriced mini bottles, and then look for another bike, this one, hopefully not broken. I find one quickly, and it works great, lights and everything. Let me just say this, pedal assist bikes are super fun! I flew on the way back to the hotel! If you get a chance, ride one, the motor does all the work for you! I even made Mandy try it when I got back to the hotel. She had to admit, even as someone that doesn't enjoy riding bikes, it was pretty cool.

We both get a crappy night sleep, then eat a pretty good hotel breakfast, then off to the airport. Customs was stressful, as it always is, but the agents were in good spirits, because the TSA in San Fransisco is ran by a private company, so they are still getting paid despite the government shutdown. We find our gate, and get the last few things that we need to do online done before leaving the country for a while. Mandy doing work, me looking at cat memes.

Finally we board our plane, we're all set to go, and we sit. Then we sit. We sit some more, then we sit. Then Mandy points out it's been an hour and we haven't moved. No word from the captain, no word from the crew. Just an hour straight of sitting in a tarmac. The guy next to us, which was clearly flying internationally for the first time asked a passing stewardess, "Hey, what's going on? When are we taking off?" And she said "10 minute." Which is obviously bullshit.

We have a friend who works for Delta, and since we're still on the ground in America, we could still contact her, so we gave her the old "What's going on?" text. She looked into it, bad wind off the coast, Delta flights are delayed by 45 minutes. We watched several planes from several other providers take off, or taxi right behind us. We just sat. It was an hour and fifty minutes before we started moving. The FAA says that after 2 hours they have to provide you with a meal. They got in JUST under the buzzer.

I have no idea why we sat there. There was no work being done, no repairs. Delta got all their flights out in 45 minutes. There we sat. The captain never said a word. The staff said nothing. The only reason we knew anything is we have a friend in the industry. We flew China Eastern, for the record. This was strike one.

We get up in the air, and about two hours later they served our meal, 4 hours after getting on the plane. I could tell the service was going to suck, so I asked for a glass of wine, and a beer, and the flight attendant looked like I just kicked his dog. TWO drinks at the same time? Impossible. He did it, but you could tell it bothered him. I'm personally super glad I did.

The food comes after the drinks and the same guy starts handing us food, and we are like, "Woah buddy, what are the options?" This is when it becomes clear none of the staff speaks English. I mean enough for one to two words here or there, but clearly no real grasp of English. Strike two. He responds "Pork fried rice." Now if any of you are unaware, I haven't been eating pork. It's actually been well over a year, almost two now. I've made one or two exceptions, but those were always my decision.

Mandy says, "What about chicken?" He says "No. Pork fried rice." Luckily for me, I already decided I was going to eat pork on this trip, because the Philippines LOVE pork. In fact, in the first hour of being here we already saw a whole pig roasting on a pit in someone's back yard. What's important here is that I had already decided I could eat pork. I didn't want to on the plane, but with a 12 hour flight (14 with the delay), I had no options. Literally. Now the vegetarian behind me... He had quite a bit less options. I think he just didn't eat. Strike three.

It's important to note when we asked for our wine, he used the small cup, and poured a half pour. He also just had a sour expression on his face when he delt with us. I say "he" because we only delt with one guy for the whole flight. He then turned to the Chinese people across the row from us chatted them up enthusiastically, got out a big cup, and filled it up with wine. To the top. Mandy and I looked at each other like, "Are you seeing this shit?" First overt sign of racism, and that's a strike four.

After lunch, they got our trash, and no staff was to be seen or heard of again for four hours. No water. No snacks. Nothing. So in the 8 hours we were on the plane so far we got one shitty meal (did I mention it was horrible?) One glass of wine each, and one can of beer. At the 8 hour mark they came around with water, and we got yet again, the small glass, and a half pour... Of water. The Chinese people got full pours in big glasses. Strike five.

Two hours after our water (which after that first water, they came by on the hour with water) they brought out no doubt the shittiest sandwich I've ever seen in my life. I'm not exaggerating. This sandwich was, a half a piece of bread, with a meat we couldn't identify, no sauce, another half price of bread, then a wilted piece of lettuce the size of a half dollar, that I would have definitely thrown away in my kitchen, no sauce, then another half piece of bread. We were pretty sure this was going to be our last meal on the plane, and we debated eating it or not... But decided we would risk food poisoning because WE HAD NO OTHER OPTIONS. Strike six.

Two hours after that, about an hour from landing they come around with another meal, much to our surprise. Our dude comes up to us and just started to put a food tray on Mandy's lap (I was in the bathroom) she had to ask, "what is this?" And he said "pork" and she said, "Do I not get any options? Is that all there is? Just fried rice pork?" I'm walking up as he goes, "omelet." She says in her SUPER sweet "Fuck you" voice, "Yeah I'll have the omelet then." As I sit down I say, "Yeah I'll have the same. Also can I get a beer?" He just says "No." And pushed the cart away. Ok. Strike seven.

The omelette was covered with greasy soggy bacon. I thought to myself, "good thing I'm ok with this. Poor vegetarian behind me." My guess is, he just didn't eat. For 14 hours. Also, they made Mandy and myself raise our seats to upright while we ate, not the people in front of us, or any other other Chinese people. Outright racism. When they were breaking down the trash, our guy walks by me with an empty beer can from a couple rows up of, you guessed it, Chinese people. It dawned on me he never said, "No, we're out of beer" which is what I assumed. He just said "No." Blatant racism. Strike eight.

Had I not brought mini bottles, I would have been provided with one beer, and one half of a small cup of wine (about a quarter of a glass) for a 14 hour plane ride. Fucking ridiculous. Unacceptable. I will never in my life ride on China Eastern. I will tell everyone who will listen to me to never ride on China Eastern. Don't ride on China Eastern. Don't give them money. Their staff is racist towards white people. It's understandable if you have a domestic Chinese flight to have your staff not speak English, but if the flight originated in the USA, they should at least be able to answer simple questions.

If for some reason this should end up in front of someone at China Eastern, I don't want free rides, just fix your shit.

So we land, we're at the back of the plane, and our bags are no where near us. This is because the plane is full of people that are carrying 3 to 4 carry on "bags" and cramming shit in the overhead that doesn't belong. We decided to just wait it out and keep an eye on our bags until everyone gets done. The Chinese in my experience push and shove, and don't make lines. This is exactly what happened. They push and shove to be the first to get off the plane, to push and shove to be the first on a bus to take us to the terminal. Mandy and I calmly collect our belongings, and get on the bus patiently, and then the doors close, and we head to the terminal. Golf clap for the Chinese. Well played.

Even though we aren't leaving the terminal, we still have to go through customs in China, which consists of 1 getting your finger prints scanned. 2 scanning your ticket and passport, and 3 going to the terminal. There are self finger print scanners at the beginning of the airport, but literally no one uses them. I say "hey Mandy, shouldn't we scan our fingerprints?" She says, "nobody else is, there's probably more further on." There weren't. I said, "Just because everyone is passing it up doesn't mean they are all right." We debated for a second, then just went on with everyone else. Not ideal.

Meanwhile there are passport control people running through the crowd shouting "MANILA MANILA 10 MINUTES THEY SHUT GATE MANILA MANILA!" See, since our plane was 2 hours late, everyone going to Manila was going to miss their flight. This led to the unorganized shit show we expected in China. People NOT going to Manila started running behind these people. Everyone followed into the self serve line, none of them had their fingerprint scans. You can't use self checkout without the receipt from your fingerprint scans. Manila was being let through without it, because they were literally missing their flight. Quickly the agent figured out the entire line eventually was just people blindly running after them, none of them had the correct information, and none of them could go through.

One by one, after waiting through about 30 minutes in self check out, people were sent back to the back of the line to check in with an officer. The fingerprint scanner was in a section that once you left, you couldn't go back in there. It seems logical if you don't think about it.

The check out by a person line takes about an hour. They were randomly letting people skip the fingerprint just to keep the line moving at self check out, that line was shorter, so we tried to see if maybe they would randomly let us through. They did not. They scanned our face, scanned our passport, scanned our ticket, then pointed to the back of the line.

At no point did anyone try to explain what was going on, in English, or Chinese. This could have saved people (read us) at least an hour. "If you have fingerprint, line here, no fingerprint, line here" is that hard? When we finally get to customs (again) they... Wait for it.. take my picture, scan my ticket, scan my passport, and then tell me to go in to the terminal. They did NOT get my fingerprints. They did NOT stamp my passport. Seriously. You can't make this shit up. They made me wait in line for an hour to do the thing they already did, but then just wouldn't let me in.

Now for security. First, we notice no one is taking their shoes off, and Mandy asks me, "Do we have to take our shoes off?" And I go, "I don't think so" and when we get up she asks, "Do we have to take our shoes off?" And the lady said "Yes. Shoes off." Literally a Chinese couple in front of us is going through the metal detector with shoes on. Mandy goes, "They're wearing shoes" and this woman from the people's republic of China looks Mandy in the eyes and says, "No they aren't."

"No they aren't." Let that sink in.

So we take off our shoes. I have 2 of my 6 mini bottles left, which they pull out, say something to the other people in Chinese, and then laugh. I think it was good hearted, but, I don't know the language. We make it through, or so I think, until one guy goes, "Take out power pack." I'm like "Oh, yeah I forgot that in my pack. Sure here." He looks it over, flips it around, and says, "No. You can not take." I'm like "Seriously? Why not? I flew here with that. I've flown all over the world with that!" And he says "I can't tell how strong it is, it's not printed." Which is true, because it's been rubbed off from use. The technical info isn't on there. I used that battery 5 days a week for work. It's been on 4 continents. I've flown with it countless times. Now it's stuck in China.

Mandy got super pissed and started to go off, and I stopped her and said, "It's not worth it. We'll have to get another one." China is not a free state. They don't have freedom of speech. The last thing I want is for this to escalate at all. I just said, "Keep it." And we left it. There was no reason for him to confiscate it. At all. I've never had anyone ever even glance at it. Ever. In any country. Ever. Except racist ass China.

At this point, we just wanted to get the fuck out of China. So this is my final point about China.. I kinda wanted to go at some point, Mandy kind of didn't want to go. Traveling with the Chinese, they are rude, pushy, inconsiderate, don't follow any local customs, they let their kids piss and shit in the street (I've seen it multiple times), and they just suck in general. These are my observations from traveling with the Chinese abroad. Traveling with them on their home turf, turns out they are racist against me as well. That being said, thanks but no thanks. China is officially off my list of countries I will visit. I now have absolutely no desire to go to China. We will never ride any Chinese airline ever again, no matter how good the ticket price. I'll never pay someone to treat me like a piece of shit.

Anywho, we have a bit of a panic getting on our last flight to the Philippines because our gate had only our flight on it, and they randomly closed it. We didn't know what time it was in China, and there were no clocks in the airport (which is insane). We went to get a drink, and our flight was a 9:20. At the restaurant we went to they said, "No food, just drinks" we said, "Ok we will do drinks." She said ok, the we ordered two Johnny Walker blacks, the lady then said, "No. Only beer." And I'm looking at the bottle with my eyes, and we're like, "uhhhh" she then said, we "We close at 9. Only beer." Which were 6 dollars for VERY blah Chinese beers. No thanks.

Well, now we're thinking it's like 5 till or something, then we see our gate is closed, and they're people going dowm an escalator towards our gate, towards our plane. We panic a little, then a bilingual girl comes up, and she straight up goes into full panic. "The gates are closed!" Then some Chinese. She takes off, we follow, she finds someone who works at the airport, hurried Chinese speech, then she takes off, we follow her. She's trying to find a way to that escalator, we are too. She gets us pretty worked up... Finally I'm like, "I'm just going to turn on my phone for a second for it to update to Shang Hai time." it connects... It's 8:18. After running around.

Yet again, we close at 9, so we can't serve you anything but beer... At our restaurant. Racist bullshit.

We get on the plane, no TV on this one, so 4 hours of silence. Everyone tried to sleep anyways. Everyone on this flight was on a similar ordeal as we were. Everyone used China as a layover, so they are all as exhausted as we are. When we land the plane erupts in laughter and applause. We made it. We fucking made it.

Well, to the Philippines. We still had a bit to go to get to our island... For sure. I'll post the rest of the long version later.

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yeonchi · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on the vaccine

So I got vaccinated. It may not seem like a big deal but it kind of is given how things played out. This is my contribution to the virtue-signalling while claiming that I’m not virtue-signalling even though I’m actually not virtue-signalling and using the phrase “virtue-signalling” four times in the same sentence.

Both of my vaccines were Pfizer and I got them at my local pharmacy. Well, technically, I got them at the GP that was upstairs from the pharmacy - most other pharmacies would have AstraZeneca and/or Morderna, but my local pharmacy advertised Pfizer (on the shopping strip they were located, no less) because it was the GP above them providing it (months ago they were giving AstraZeneca vaccines as well).

My first vaccine was on 12 October. I’ve heard people say “you won’t even feel the needle” but yet I could still feel the poke in my left arm. They lied to me lol. My mum and I went into the GP and after handing over our forms, we were led straight into the room where they would give us the vaccine. It was over and done in like two minutes. We were told to sit back in the waiting room for 15 minutes, as per the protocol in case anything suddenly happens during that time (considering how most side effects seem to happen more than 15 minutes after I don’t see how that really helps that much). In there, I met one of my high school friends who had come to get her first vaccine with her sister and her mum as well.

After the 15 minutes were up, we left, but not before booking our appointment for the second vaccine. My left arm itched a little bit at the injection site, then an hour later, my right hand and arm felt a little bit weird, but I think those were unrelated. About 2-3 hours later was when the main side effect happened - my left arm would ache when I raised it and the injection site would hurt a little when I touched over the bandaid. It wasn’t intolerable, but since I’m sitting at my computer daily I didn’t notice it that much. The aching subsided over 72 hours following the injection. I did get a little stomachache when I woke up the morning after, but I think that was unrelated as well.

My second vaccine was on 11 November. There were quite a few more people in the waiting room that day and most of them were there to get the vaccine. This time around, I felt the poke less compared to last time. I thought it happened too fast as I ended up bleeding a little bit and the person injecting me had to stop the bleeding and get me a new bandaid, but looking back, I think I might have been a bit too tense or I tensed up at the wrong moment.

People have said that with Pfizer, the side effects of the second vaccine would be worser than the first (and vice versa with AstraZeneca). Those people lied to me again, but I suppose side effects will vary from person to person. The aching in my left arm was pretty much the same as with the first vaccine. In addition to this, I felt a bit more tired than usual the day after, which is saying something when I’m constantly concentrating on the computer daily to even notice how tired I am.

Although I might have been fine going without the vaccine, I am not impressed over the fact that people are being essentially coerced into getting a vaccine that may have only been effective against the original, but not as effective to the Delta (Indian) or even Omicron (South African) strains. It’s also sad that my state’s premier, Daniel Andrews, and his government having been implementing backwards, draconian rules and mandates under the guise of safety. During the sixth lockdown, playgrounds were closed in Victoria but not in New South Wales (a council announced that playgrounds would be closed but they backtracked after public outcry). When the sixth lockdown ended at the end of October, the retail sector reopened for all Victorians as the state’s vaccination rates hit 80%, but then they were locked out to the unvaccinated about a month later when the state’s vaccination rates hit 90%. There’s a reason why Victorians call him “Dictator Dan” and this is why.

Vaccine mandates and the guidelines and roadmaps around them enable segregation based on vaccination status and anyone who disagrees is being wilfully blind to the reality around them and they need to wake up. Granted, although we may not be like North Korea, Afghanistan or Nazi Germany, things seem to be heading that way and just because things aren’t turning out like they have doesn’t mean that a newer form of tyranny doesn’t exist; people in those dictatorships probably never knew their states would be heading in that direction before it was too late.

In Victoria, the government passed through pandemic laws that would allow the premier and health minister (Martin Foley) to declare a pandemic and enforce restrictions, which they did do, with the declaration to come into effect after the state of emergency expires on 15 December (the day when this post is published). With the Omicron strain making relevance in recent weeks, governments are now recommending that their people take vaccine boosters and it’s only a matter of time before boosters will be mandated, which will only prove that the current vaccines we have aren’t working (as effectively as believed). This whole thing could have been prevented if doctors and governments were upfront about potentially requiring additional shots, didn’t hammer in the “two shots for your freedom” narrative and most importantly, didn’t promote discrimination and segregation by mandating vaccines to get on with our daily lives.

I was too deep in the cogs of the system to escape the initial double-dose and I don’t know if it’ll be the same when it comes to the boosters. The main reason why I agreed in the first place is because my dad is immunocompromised and his doctor recommended that my mum and I take the vaccine as well to protect him; at this point in time, he’s already had two Pfizer shots and he recently went to get Morderna for the booster. I hope I can avoid the boosters if possible (the effectiveness and usefulness of our politicians notwithstanding), but if I can’t, then I’ll just write about my thoughts after I get it.

Next year, there will be two elections; one in May for the federal government, and one in November for the state government. Both the Liberal/National Coalition and the Labor Party have been complicit in establishing or defending the vaccine mandates or even saying nothing about them in the case of the federal government (looking at you Scomo you useless piece of shit), so it’s fair to say that I won’t be voting for them this time around. I have no intention of voting Greens as well because they are just as complicit. Instead, I choose to vote for politicians and parties who are truly against mandates and segregation, such as the Liberal Democrats or even the United Australia Party (I don’t care if you think their ads are annoying or if a vote for them only goes to the Coalition, you just have to vote below the line for the Senate and know who you’re voting for).

Things will keep changing the longer I keep delaying this post, so I’ll finish off with some anecdotes. During a couple of my post-lockdown weekend trips to the city, I’ve encountered freedom protesters in different contexts. On one such trip, I saw protesters on the train to and from the city. They mostly kept to themselves or their own groups and on the way back, I saw someone debating vaccines with one of the protesters. On the other occasion, I saw the protesters walking through the busiest street in the city. I think it took about 10-15 minutes for the entire crowd to pass through an intersection because there was just that many people and they were holding anti-vaccine, anti-lockdown and anti-government signs. Compare that to a pro-vax anti-fascist rally I saw earlier that day; the protesters in that rally only covered the equivalent of one lane along a block between a street and a “little street”, and the signs they were holding had more to do with being against hate than being for vaccines or against freedom rallies. Make of that what you will.

Wake up and stop being blind to the reality around you and other people.

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classyfoxdestiny · 3 years

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Boies Schiller loses lawyers over controversies involving Theranos, Harvey Weinstein

Attorney David Boies, representing several alleged victims of Jeffrey Epstein, exits federal court following a bail hearing for Jeffrey Epstein, July 15, 2019 in New York City.

Drew Angerer | Getty Images

One of America’s most prominent law firms is struggling to hold on to talent.

Legal powerhouse Boies Schiller Flexner has experienced a rapid exodus of several top attorneys, many of whom were bothered by purported decisions by the firm’s founders.

This article is based on interviews with more than a half-dozen people with direct knowledge of various issues at the firm, from alleged nepotism to the unsavory reputation of some high-profile clients. These people declined to be named in order to avoid possible retribution from the firm.

The firm’s founders are David Boies and Jonathan Schiller, who have been key players in major political and corporate cases for decades.

Boies is known for representing the U.S. government in its landmark 2001 antitrust case against Microsoft and for helping win a decision that overturned California’s ban on gay marriage. Schiller has represented Goldman Sachs and the New York Yankees, among other major corporations and entities.

But attorneys who left have described their dissatisfaction with Boies for working with Harvey Weinstein, the disgraced Hollywood mogul who has been convicted of rape, and accused fraudster Elizabeth Holmes and her discredited blood-testing firm Theranos.

They have also alleged that Schiller’s own family members received preferential treatment, both inside the firm and out. Employees, for instance, took issue with the way the founders dealt with one of Jonathan Schiller’s sons, a lawyer at the firm, after he purportedly used racist and homophobic terms at a party thrown by another of the firm’s lawyers.

Many people argued that Boies and Schiller sometimes overruled the firm’s management committee, which had been trying to formulate a succession plan for when the founders eventually leave their roles. Former leaders at the firm would privately claim that they were not always presented specific details about the firm’s finances, people familiar with the matter said.

“They keep naming new people as managing partners, but the reason people are leaving is it [the firm] is just a name,” a former Boies Schiller partner told CNBC. “There’s no transition going on, and David and Jon are deciding everything.”

After reaching out to the firm’s public relations team, CNBC spoke with Matt Schwartz, who is one of the new co-managing partners at the firm along with Sigrid McCawley and Alan Vickery. Schwartz is not related to this reporter.

During the nearly hourlong conversation, Schwartz denied that Boies and Schiller are making all the decisions. He said the leaders of the firm are always given specifics about the firm’s financial deals, including with outside vendors. He also insisted that he and other co-managing partners oversee day-to-day operations.

“David and Jonathan are on the executive committee. Of course they are part of those discussions,” Schwartz told CNBC on Friday. “They hold the titles of managing partners and are an important resource for us. But truly and honestly in every way the four new managing partners of Natasha [Harrison], Sigrid, Alan and myself run the day-to-day operations at this firm and we do so under the guidance and oversight of the executive committee. Whoever is telling you that the founding partners are running everything is wrong.”

“The short answer is if I want to know how much money we are paying for any particular vendor or item, yes, that is something that is knowable,” Schwartz added.

Scores of departures

At the end of 2020, Boies Schiller Flexner employed around 200 lawyers. Previously it employed just over 300. It boasts a high-powered client list including Facebook, American Express, Chevron, Delta, Barclays, Oracle and Sony. The firm, founded in 1997, has offices in New York, Miami, Washington, D.C., San Francisco, Los Angeles and London.

But the firm has experienced a brain drain in recent months: Nearly 60 partners left last year, according to Bloomberg. Some of the organization’s top clients followed their attorneys who left. Two of the recent departures reportedly represented Apple, Facebook, Oracle and Elon Musk’s Solar City Corp.

Additional corporate clients of the firm include Delta, UnitedHealthcare, John Hancock, Lincoln National, Carnival, NextEra and Burger King.

Boies himself said in a previous interview with lawyer and legal commentator David Lat that “some of the partners who have left the firm in the past did so because they were disappointed with leadership choices or because they had a different vision for the future of the firm.” He didn’t give further details.

Nick Gravante, a managing partner, left the firm last year. Gravante and other top attorneys, such as Karen Dunn and Damien Marshall, were part of the management committee that, according to Law360.com, was meant to “assume day to day responsibilities of operations as part of a long term plan to transfer leadership of the litigation firm from its founder to the next generation.”

Dunn and William Isaacson, who was a vice chair at Boies Schiller, left last year to join the firm Paul, Weiss.

A leader steps back

Another leader might soon be out the door: Harrison, who recently stepped down as deputy chair. Boies once said Harrison, who is based in London and is also a managing partner, was in line to be his successor. People familiar with the situation said Harrison could now end up leaving Boies Schiller.

Harrison told CNBC in a statement that she has not been in touch with other firms but notably did not say in her comment whether she had any future plans to leave Boies Schiller.

“I am not in discussions with any other law firms, nor do I plan to enter into discussions with any other law firms, and any suggestion to the contrary is false,” Harrison said. “It is an honour to be working with the other managing partners to lead one of the world’s leading litigation firms through its transition to the second generation and in this regard, we have made significant and important progress over the last twenty months.”

Harrison’s decision to step down from the deputy chair role was due to personal reasons and not a suggestion that there are any problems at the firm, according to a Sept. 1 internal memo reviewed by CNBC. The memo was signed by the firm’s managing partners, including Harrison, Boies and Schiller.

“Most notably as it relates to the pandemic, international travel restrictions have prevented Natasha from spending the kind of time in the U.S., actively engaging with the leadership team, the Firm and our U.S.-based clients, that she feels is necessary to fulfill the obligations of the Deputy Chair position,” the memo said.

Schwartz confirmed that, since Harrison is no longer deputy chair, she will not be in line to succeed Boies as chair of the firm.

“Now that is not going to happen. That’s the significance of Natasha stepping down as deputy chair. It’s really a signifier that she’s not going to take over as chair,” Schwartz said. He said Harrison stepped down from the post “because she couldn’t make a commitment to become chair down the road.”

Schwartz gave no indication that there are future plans to transition beyond the current management structure, including having Boies and Schiller continue to hold some sort of leadership positions within the firm.

“The succession planning means: How is the firm going to be run after? The firm is now run by a group of people that is much broader than the founding partners,” Schwartz said. “The day to day is run exclusively by the four new managing partners, with guidance from, but not control by, the founding partners. That is the succession plan in action.”

Schwartz didn’t seem to think there were any plans for Boies and Schiller to step away from the firm, including possibly retiring. “No, I mean you’d have to ask them. That’s a personal decision to them, not anything that we’re going to try to force upon them, certainly,” he said.

Taking issue with a Schiller son

Harrison was one of many Boies Schiller leaders and firm employees who were disturbed by the original domestic abuse allegations levied against Josh Schiller, a partner at the firm and the son of Jonathan Schiller, according to people familiar with the matter.

Josh Schiller was arrested in January on a domestic violence allegation. His lawyer, at the time, said “there was no instance of domestic violence.” Schiller is married to Melissa Siebel Schiller, who is a sister-in-law of California Gov. Gavin Newsom.

The firm put Josh Schiller on a leave of absence after he was arrested. He returned to work earlier this year after outside investigators employed by the firm cleared him, and prosecutors dropped the charge. He was cleared because “there was no physical harm or instance of domestic violence in this case,” his attorney told reporters.

A person within the firm, who declined to be named in order to speak freely about private matters, said Jonathan Schiller recused himself from any matter involving the investigation into his son.

Yet, for leaders at the firm, many took issue with the fact that this was only the latest incident involving Josh Schiller, these people explained.

For instance, Josh Schiller was heard using the N-word at a party hosted by Susan Estrich, who joined the firm and became a partner in 2018, according to people familiar with the matter.

A person with direct knowledge explained that Schiller tried to reenact a Dave Chappelle joke comparing the use of the N-word to a homophobic slur.

Afterward, Estrich sent a note to the firm’s leadership calling the remark inappropriate, the people added. A member of the management committee privately insisted to other leaders at the firm on an investigation but none of the party guests were contacted, this person explained.

“Everyone who heard it was horrified,” this person who was at the party explained to CNBC.

Josh Schiller later told associates that he used these words as part of a joke, one of the people said. Schiller did not respond to an email seeking comment on the incident.

Estrich left the firm last year and is now a partner at Estrich Goldin. Among other career moves, Estrich is known as the attorney who defended the late Fox News executive Roger Ailes from accusations of sexual harassment.

She did not respond to CNBC’s request for comment.

Business with another Schiller son

Another Schiller son, Aaron Schiller, runs an architecture company, Schiller Projects, which has done business with the law firm. Schiller Projects designed three offices for Boies Schiller, including its new office in New York’s Hudson Yards complex and offices in San Francisco and Washington.

Several leaders at the firm were frustrated over not being consulted before the agreement with Aaron Schiller’s firm, people familiar with the matter said. Leaders and associates at the firm are also unhappy with the Hudson Yards office design, the people added.

Schwartz told CNBC that Jonathan Schiller didn’t decide to have the firm hire his son’s company.

“The selection of that design firm was not made by Jonathan. It was made by other members of the firm management and was the process of competitive bidding,” Schwartz said.

Employees at the Hudson Yards office moved there in 2019 from their former space on Lexington Avenue.

Schiller Projects says on its website that the Hudson Yards space has “no private corner offices, but rather a flowing space — a unique approach to open office design.” The website describes the space as “an inversion of the traditional law office model, flipping perimeter closed offices to perimeter open workspaces” and says it “is promoting measurable increases in collaboration and employee workplace satisfaction.”

But lawyers often use private spaces to conduct the reading of often confidential briefs and to call clients. Boies Schiller associates have complained about being crammed into what they described as fishbowl-type offices, forcing them to call clients from booths instead of their desks, several people said.

After this report was published Friday, a spokesman for Schiller Projects told CNBC on Sunday:

“We are an award-winning architectural design firm with extensive experience in reimagining commercial environments and corporate workplaces. The Hudson Yards project went through a rigorous, competitive bidding process. The resulting work won multiple awards, including Interior Design magazine’s ‘Best of Year Corporate Office Design 2019 for North America’.”

Boies, Weinstein and Holmes

Boies, meanwhile, can’t seem to escape the fact that he extensively helped both Weinstein and Theranos.

The New Yorker reported in 2017 that Boies personally signed a contract for an investigative firm known as Black Cube to uncover information that could stop the publication of a New York Times article about Weinstein’s abuses.

Boies’ firm was representing the Times in a libel lawsuit at the time. Boies confirmed to The New Yorker that his firm contracted and paid two investigative agencies on Weinstein’s behalf.

Potential clients have since opted not to work with the firm in part because Boies helped Weinstein, people familiar with the matter said.

“It’s not like Weinstein and Theranos are helpful to the firm,” a former partner explained to CNBC. “You’ve got a lot of women who resent the whole firm. They don’t want to hear the name Boies Schiller Flexner.”

Around 2017, members of the firm confronted Boies at a private retreat over his role helping Weinstein. In the buildup to Boies fielding questions from members, Dunn was approached by a group of the firm’s employees with concerns about Boies helping Weinstein, according to multiple people familiar with the conversations.

Dunn did not respond to CNBC’s requests for comment.

In remarks similar to what he said at the retreat, Boies told The New York Times in 2018 that, while he concedes he made mistakes, he was just defending his client. In that same interview, Boies used the same reasoning for why he defended Theranos.

“You don’t know all the facts when you take on a client,” he said at the time, “but once you do, you have a duty of loyalty. You can’t represent them halfway. If, as a lawyer, you start to value how you are going to look to the media, as opposed to how your client will look, then you should find a new profession.”

The firm’s public relations team sent a comment to CNBC from Joanna Wright, a partner and new member of the executive committee, about the decision to retain Black Cube.

“Retaining Black Cube for Weinstein was a serious mistake as David has, himself, said. We have since implemented procedures ensuring that never happens again,” Wright said in the statement. “Having said that, I don’t believe there is another firm where you can consistently do well while doing good at the scale and level we have historically done that and continue to today.”

Holmes and Theranos, according to The Mercury News, hired Boies and a team of lawyers from his firm in a dispute with The Wall Street Journal as the paper was aiming to publish a story on Holmes’ company. In 2015, Boies was a member of the Theranos board. The Times reported that he worked to quash reporting done by then-Wall Street Journal investigative reporter John Carreyrou.

Carreyrou went on to write an acclaimed nonfiction book about Theranos’ rise and fall called “Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup.”

Holmes is on trial for fraud. She recently lost a bid to keep more than a dozen emails between her and Boies Schiller lawyers out of the legal proceedings.

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paraclete0407 · 3 years

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I feel I have done little but to attack the Christians right and left who actually looked out for my body as well as spirit and kept me company when no one would and inspired me not to lust or get in political arguments or strain every muscle-fiber and sweat every drop to displace an immoveable object and for their trouble I am basically mad at them for what they have that I don’t - your wife, your muscles, your training, your past, your firm footing in life, where you’re going. I just lack passion and affection and neighbors / friends and more passion, try to be ‘technical’ about everything, preaching about good relationships and sacrificial generosity. I read ‘The Meaning of Marriage’ and realized that husband and wife could be one flesh - it clicked - but IDK why I tried to share this.

All these novel-ideas and I like to set up sentiments and situations but then too I feel as if Korea is practically my only reality - a if, like I said on my last night, ‘This is the first thing I gained’ - and now the present absence or distance is the ‘operative condition’ of my life or the ‘keynote.’ I also realize now that I fell in to the Millennial / Miles Klee (in past) habit of sophisticated coastal elites writing evocations of ‘wholesome’ Midwesterners or Southerners, with the implication being that they will sooner or later become - to take a short leap of intuition - media, or, education. I guess Kent Haruf is all about this where the characters are defined by adultery or trying to play the white knight or I had a thought of ‘Teacher Dream’ where all these utility clerks pushing in carts and I felt glad at first to remark to myself I am carrying multitudes of learning but then felt sad I wasn’t doing anything much but muse about what I used to be. I got in the habit of trying to open bout my personal story / narrative concerning Christian belief but now some people won’t even stay on the phone if I mention NK and play games about anything. Am I a drug pusher? I wasn’t even asking for money, just expanding on my interest as the other person had expanded.

I don’t thik it’s not even a big deal - Milwaukee could get nuked or attacked by neo-Nazi’s with bombs and assault weapons with all these mixed-race marriages and adoptions and I know for a fact Wisc’s got neo-Nazis all over. Nuclear war! Not a lot of manufacturing left in some areas or farmland, just old buildings and human souls. Everyone was starting to believe that C-19 was over but then Delta and I started to remember everything from ‘16 and how my spirit wants to drive as fast as possible around be prepared for welcome our angelic invaders / victors (literally); I felt as if the heavenly military have hair-triggers and just open fire if they see sth they don’t like.

I had tried to elevate my understanding of the Midwestern soul or the customary ‘course of life’ in terms of male self-consciousness or expectations-versus-outcome which in retrospect was not as comprehensively smart as I had liked to believe but only beautiful and pleasing to the intellect. My ideas about the Midwestern novel helped make me a friend but in retrospect I don’t know why I even tried to get in to the genre when my whole image of life is here just somehow being and/or being with Koreans.

I feel sometimes as if I don’t really know anyone and for a long time my main character has been some clone or graft of my brother. I’ve lost my standards. I just look at all the world going by. Maybe I ought to just pray and write poems for a while since I have a sense of what is going on or at least what I hope will soon be happening.

I keep reading books too and I bought up all the books I could then got rid of them.

I had been living in a case of ‘eventually’ for years and didn’t realize the Covid ‘revolution’ or Delta would suddenly appear and I would be regarding ‘last things.’

I keep wondering whether I ought to talk about Korea or Asians at all. It’s - they are - my one hit-you-up lapel-grab button-hole and tell tell tell. In this time of wanting to give away one’s best I am like pine-tree, ‘far away and over there,’ beautiful and intense. People back away from me.

I wonder whether everyone feels as confident as I do in their understanding of what’s going on right now in history - and whether it’s even useful or even acceptable to talk about it that way as it sounds like total Marxism. Anyway I was talking about Satan and Judgment and I mean it 100% literally and I saw it and recognized and heard the word for it, ‘Judgment.’ I wonder whether Tolstoy in War and Peace was 100% confident in having the character label Napoleon anti-Christ and who’s the instantiation or manifestation of anti-Christ today if that is ‘dispensationally appropriate / valid.’ I read Coronavirus and Christ numerous times and feel it cannot be quite the last days but then since when does David J. Johnston not believe that he likes believing? But sincerely and fully who’s out there saying anti-Christ stuff like oppressing religion? I feel I’m only against false religions but then I go around being not very loving to anyone and only excuse myself - ‘an excuse is twice is a lie’ - by dint of that no one ever opens to me here. [relationship is no]. Sleep on street in K-Town LA just if I’m in LA I want a projectile weapon.

...Who’s the one saying everyone can be together today and religion is bad? I almost feel it’s Anglo America with Christopher Hitchens (St. Theresa bad, alcohol good, nuke North Korean ‘dwarves,’ making special stipulations so that not only can he not live a believing life but ‘if I die and want God that’s not me’), Johnson acting like he understands everything; America(?). I remember when I read the Obergefell opinion there was the phrase ‘love that lasts beyond life’ or something. It made me think of stones in Egypt and stuff or the Middle East(?). I wonder am I a terrible person just for having certain pure ideas? People appear to look at me and go like, ‘Solzhenitsyn, Hobby Lobby,’ just attacking others’ values wile I’m really a misogynist casual rapist.

I’m just trying to supply some narrative for why I came to crystallized convictions after years of studying and writing. My friend said ‘pastors who study porn are disgusting’ which I agree with but then part of me is like there’s evil everywhere; someone’s gotta study war, pornography, weapons, fat people ~ but I see like no good; I see ‘image-aspirations’ and ‘identitkits.’ She wanted me to teach AmLit which I felt like it sends all kinds of confused messages that lead to disappointment and all of these Rutgers girls believed they were Jane Austen and that’s again why I say send your daughters to Bethlehem Seminary and just learn from OT NT faithful women b/c the rst are literal ‘Gossip Girl’ that I can tell or it’s just sad but I don’t wanna be Norman Mailer and attack the corporate cool girl - Generation Alpha’s rising and here I am coping, depressed they just wants sports-based instructional design. They appear to want nothing or IDK; pressure their parents. Am I just seeing the same narrative again about the MS cafeteria, the Lunchable someone has and I don’t and I am ‘special’ and feel ‘proud’ if not a ‘solemn pride’ that my mom gave me healthier foods but then believed I would get the big-ticket items we were saving up for - it’s ancient history but part of why I lost my mind and nearly my life in quest of a) personal glory or vindication that I’m not like others and b) ‘educational justice’ or ‘fairness’

I remember how when I first lived in South Korea I was reading St. Augustine partly because it is interesting and lovely and talks about the reading life and growing up, love-failure,’ parents’ weird maniacal greed and impatience to become grandparents, and incredible things about history and the heart and pedagogy and basically everything, which is why I feel as though ‘Confessions’ but also ‘City of God’ are covering the whole sky right now, people rediscovering the actual existence of sin, the violence of history (which some are lip-licking for), the ways in Time and in Eternity...

At that time I felt reading ‘Confessions’ and much else made me better than others or that ultimately I was not required to deal with some people or look at them that carefully nor wonder how they got to be the way they were as I could just stay with my books and have consolation and uplift. I wanted to write my own ‘Midwestern novel’ with the title ‘And I Will Give You Rest’ and the topic of coping, basically or abandoning desires and ambitions. My other novel ‘Commitment’ is going out the window I’m afraid since the desire or intention it reflects is rapidly coming up to me as reality. On Grace to You the description of ‘rest’ included ‘lack of apprehension.’ I also felt that since my parents and younger brother appeared to be night-terminally obstructing my aspirations through unlawful backhanded means I would include my ‘confinement’ I might as well ‘mix in Eastern and Western characters’ and talk about the present world-situation but it’s still fiction at a terrible moment in Time and I sincerely feel that America and England are defending values and ideas that aren’t even really good for anyone. Kindness and gentleness and rights and non-enslavement to the state and absence of a state religion such as in NK (from what I can tell), are excellent, but chauvinism, complacence, some aspects of procedural and parliamentary governance.

I also remembered how at 27 and then 34 I’d fall asleep when I saw someone really beautiful. One of these people made me feel lost without resources and the other gave me a notion of living love.

I feel as if my whole life is actually one story which circles around a dream I had in 2015 about birth but also involves this beauty of holding love; honestly I do not know why else I am still alive as I have contributed so little economically.

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spooks-anime · 4 years

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Act 2: Chapter 2-Shadow One

It's been eight months. Eight long fucking months since I was out of the service - all because of that IED, which destroyed my lower part of my right leg where it had to be amputated. I had to wear a prosthetic replacement of my shin to foot. It hurts like hell but I was on pain killers and still work out with it. In return for my medical discharge, I got a medal. Getting a Purple Heart didn't mean shit to me. What's the point? I had to remain secret and tell no one that I was a Navy SEAL. I didn't mind, and on top of that, no one would believe that a woman was a SEAL. Just because that G.I. Jane film was made doesn't mean a lot of women became SEALs. The US Government still does not want women in Special Forces, period. I was the first and the luckiest to be a SEAL and may be the last. After eight months, I was starting to believe that serving my country was over, meaning that I don't get to be a cop or a firefighter. I probably can't be a fucking paramedic since I have a prosthetic leg. The only chance of a job would be working as a desk job - that was, until that man came to my house.

0400 Hours August 15, 2007

Somewhere in the Southern United States, there was a nice two story house apartment. Inside a bedroom sat Jessica Sawyer herself. She was only wearing her white tank top and grey undies, sitting on the edge of her with her head and eyes staring at the ground. Her facial expression indicated that she didn't sleep much. Not only that, it also showed that she was very depressed. She couldn't stop thinking about what happened in Iraq, neither could she still get over the medical discharge and the loss of her leg. Suddenly, a loud ringing was heard from the alarm clock on top of her night stand, which grabbed her attention right away. She reached over to turn it off and began making preparations to start her day. A car pulled up next to the apartment building and parked in the lot. A bald African-American man with brown eyes in his early forties exited the car. He wore a black business suit and a pair of dark sunglasses. The man took a deep breath before walking towards the building. When he reached the second floor, he found the door he was looking for and knocked three times for someone to answer. The door finally opened and he saw Jessica standing across from him. Upon seeing Jessica, the man gave a half-smile, but Jessica worked to keep her expression blank, despite her curiosity and growing suspicions as to why a strange man had showed up at her apartment with no warning.

"Jessica Patricia Sawyer?" questioned the man. “Former Petty Officer of the United States Navy SEALs? Team 3 Alpha Platoon.”

"Yes. Can I help you?" Jessica asked.

"May we talk inside? This is a private conversation."

“Do you want anything to drink?” Jessica asked as she led the man inside.

“No, no. I’m fine,” the man answered. "How's your leg?"

"Still feels a bit strange, but it’s fine," Jessica answered before cutting right to the point. “So, may I ask what is this about?”

"How would you like to serve your country again?"

"To do what exactly?” Jessica raised an eyebrow. “I'm handicapped."

"You can still run, shoot, and fight can't you?”

Jessica started to wonder whether she was being recruited into a private military company, perhaps for either Blackwater or Triple Canopy. However, working as hired security or as a mercenary wasn’t exactly Jessica’s style.

"If you're recruiting me to be some security contractor for some company, then I'll pass. I'm not the type to do that shit," said Jessica, turning down the offer.

"Of course not,” the man replied. “I meant as in for the US government. With the skills that will be provided for you in the Agency, you can be a part of a paramilitary unit for people who were in Special Operations units of the United States military, such as SEALs like yourself. In this unit, you will be hunting down major terrorist cells or any threat to the United States of America.”

Jessica was feeling a bit unsure of what Agency has a paramilitary unit for her to be in and why they would want to recruit her.

"Sawyer,” the man continued, leaning forward, “I know how much you wanted to go back to the field and how much you wanted to continue serving your country. I know it. I can even see it in those eyes; you still have those eyes of a warrior. We need people like that.”

Jessica was still unsure about being recruited by this man, but it did seem to interest her as there was nothing for her in this civilian life and would rather continue serving her country. Jessica made her decision and agreed to join.

“Where do I sign up?” she asked.

The man offered his hand to Jessica, and she shook his. As they were shaking hands, the man replied.

"Welcome to the Central Intelligence Agency, Jessica Sawyer."

Years past, I was part of the CIA’s Ground Branch unit of the Special Activities Division/Special Operation Group. We’re guys or gals selected out of badass special forces units of the United States Armed Forces: SEALs, Delta, Marine Force Recon, Raiders and hell, even Air Force Special Ops. We’re basically a deniable paramilitary unit that handles covert operations, espionage and assassinations. When I mean deniable, I’m referring to the fact that we don’t exist and our government has no knowledge of us if the mission is compromised. Real Black Ops shit.

0100 Hours March 9, 2015

Somewhere in the Caucasus Mountains on the Georgian-Russian Border during a quiet, pitch-black night, there is a three story house in the middle of nowhere. On the hilltop are two snipers in prone position with a good view of the house. The snipers are armed with DPMS TAC20s fitted with CNVD, telescopic scopes, and Parker & Hale bipod stands on the ground. The two snipers are wearing ghillie suits to disguise them as bushes.

One of the snipers is Jessica, who is now the team leader of the CIA Special Activities Division/Special Operation Group Paramilitary unit. The two are in overwatch as they’re scoping out the house 800 meters away from them. Suddenly a man calls through their earpiece comms.

“Shadow 2 to 1, we’re in position. Ready to engage safehouse, over.”

Jessica slowly clicks on her mic and reply back to the man.

“Copy, Shadow 2. You are clear to execute, over.”

From the forest area to the front of the house, there is a group of three operators wearing coyote brown tactical plate carriers over their black tactical jackets, tactical gloves, blue jeans and sneakers. The operators are also wearing tactical helmets with quad tube panoramic night vision goggles to see through the dark. Two operatives are armed with Daniel Defense MK18s; one is armed with an MP7. Their weapons have different scopes, mounted laser designators, and suppressors, as they want to maintain stealth.

There are two women in the group and one man. One female operative is a Caucasian American with short blonde hair and green eyes; the other female operative is a brown-skinned Latina American with short black hair, blue eyes and a beauty mark on the right side near her eye. The male operative leading the assault is a Caucasian American with short brown hair in a buzz cut, a light stubble beard, and blue eyes.

The three operatives are slowly walking through the valley making their way to the house, watching their steps from any landmines that may be planted by the hostiles in the house. As they get close to the house, the Latina operative separates herself from the team as she makes her way to the back of the house. Once she gets there, she notices a man armed with an AK rifle taking a cigarette break while standing next to the power generator. She aims her MP7 at the gunman and fires a round at him; the bullet goes straight through his head, killing him instantly.

After killing the gunman, the operative walks over from him and makes her way to the generator. From Jessica and the other sniper’s position, the two sees the house’s lights turn off.

“Show time,” Jessica mutters with a smirk on her face.

The house is now completely pitch black; there is commotion inside. The Latina operative goes to her mic and reports to the male operative as she returns to him.

“Power’s down. Returning to you guys.”

“Copy. We’ll wait for you to breach,” the male operative replies on comms.

The Latina operative finally makes it back to her team, and they’re about to breach into the front of the house stacking next to the door.

“2 to 1. We’re entering the front of the house now,” said the male operative to Jessica using his mic.

As soon as he reaches for the doorknob, loud gunfire rings out and bullets are flying through the door. The male operative quickly moves back so the bullets won’t hit him.

“Fuck…” The male operative swears quietly to himself.

The male operative pulls out an M84 grenade from his vest, pulls the pin, and throws it through the door. A couple of seconds later, the grenade explodes where the shooting stopped, which gives the operatives the opportunity to breach into the front of the house.

The male operative trains his MK18 on a stunned gunman carrying an AK rifle wearing a green shirt and woodland Euro military camo pants, and puts three rounds his chest with no hesitations. Once he falls to the ground, the operative puts one more round to his chest and one to the head to make sure that he’s dead.

The operatives continue to move through the house before finally making their way to the circular room. The operatives found two armed gunmen who were standing still and trying to figure out what was going on, as they cannot see through the dark. The male operative and the blonde female operatives aim their weapons at the two gunmen and the gunmen drop dead as they were pierced by a few bullets. As the team continues, they take fire from a gunman hiding in the kitchen; the man was blind firing and not even hitting near the team, which gave the Latina operative the opportunity to flank. She comes up to the gunman from behind and squeezes off two rounds in the back before finishing him off with a round to the head which kills him instantly.

“Kitchen cleared,” the Latina operative announced.

After securing the living room, the team regrouped back to the circular room and the male operative reports to Jessica using his mic.

“Three tangos down on second floor.”

“Proceed to third and basement floors.” Jessica ordered through comms.

“Taking stairs to third floor,” announces the Latina operative as she separates herself from the team.

“Shadow 3 and I will take the bottom floor basement,” replies the male operative.

The Latina operative makes her way up the stairs to the third floor. Once she makes it to the top, she quickly shoots down and kills a gunman on the top of the steps before he could react. Before she could search the halls, she immediately came under fire coming from down the hall by another gunman at the end of the hall in the bathroom. She manages to lean out and return fire. Her bullets manage to hit the gunman in the chest, and the last bullet to the head finally kills him.

The Latina operative continues to move through the halls and stops at a door on her left that leads to a bedroom. One opens the door slowly and enters the bedroom and finds nothing. She comes out and makes her way over to the last bedroom on the right. As soon as she opens the door halfway, bullets fly through the door, but luckily the operative is not caught by any of them. She then quickly enters the room and shoots the gunman who is next to the bed. One round hits the gunman’s shoulder and waist, which makes him fall to the floor screaming in pain although he still tried his best to get up.

The operative walks up and finishes the wounded gunman off by two bullets in the chest and one to the head, which kills him. After looking around the room and the closet, the operative goes to her mic and reports to the male operative.

“Third floor cleared.”

The blonde female operative and the male operative are not going down the stairs to the basement room; they are taking fire from a gunman in the corner to a hallway who is keeping them pinned down. The gunman is near the stairs while the operatives remain near the corner of the stairs.

The two operatives still keep their cool as the gunman is shooting wildly. Once the gunman is out of ammo, three bullets pierce through his chest which knocks him down to the ground dead.

The two operatives came down from the stairs and move through the hallway, stacking up to a door to the left. As the male operative takes point, the two enter the room and quickly take down two armed gunmen using their weapons.

After killing them and securing the room, which turned out to be the garage, they come out and move to the next door on the right that leads to another room. The two enter the room and shoot down a gunman together, killing him as bullets pierced into his chest.

There is another gunman hiding in a weapon cache room. He is a middle-aged Russian man with green eyes, grey hair, and a beard, wearing a white shirt under a Soviet chest rig and camo pants.

He tries to shoot the operative using his PMK light machine gun but the rifle seems to be jammed, giving the male operative the opportunity to cut the man down by putting three rounds in his chest. Once the Russian falls to the ground, the operative puts one round to the head, finishing him off.

“HVT confirmed KIA,” reports the male operative.

The two operatives become relieved that the house is completely secured and there are no enemies left around.

“I’ll start collecting in the garage,” said the blonde female operative as she walks away from her teammate.

The male operative goes to his mic and reports to Jessica.

“‘Shadow 1’, this is ‘Shadow 2’, house secure. All hostiles have been neutralized including HVT.”

“Copy 2,” Jessica replied on comms. “Start collecting everything that you can get, including the HVT. You have ten mikes and then start to exfil or you will be left behind, out.”

The Latina operative comes from the third floor to the living room, which has a plan board which she starts pictures of using a digital camera. By the look on her face, she is surprised by what these gunmen were up to. There are even pictures of potential attacks in the US such as New York, Washington, and even Chicago. Paying attention to their plans, it seemed it would have been very successful.

“Damn,” the Latina operative mutters before going back to her mic and contacting Jessica. “Shadow 4 to 1...you were right...these assholes were planning something big.”

“Good thing we stopped them in time, 4,” Jessica replies on comms.

Meanwhile, the blond female operator is gathering all zip drives, disks, and storages in bags as the garage was a computer lab while the male operative starts to put the dead insurgent leader who is a High Value Target in a bodybag. The team has now successfully completed their mission by killing an HVT and collecting intel for the analysis team to look at, but the battle against these Russian gunmen is not over yet.

I have never been with, nor lead a team of operators like Shadow 1. I thought SEALs were badass but if you’re in SAD/SOG, you’re basically a nightmare to your enemies. Black, “Shadow 1-2,” is a former Green Beret; he’s a bit of an asshole from the South even if he’s joking around, but at least he cares for his country - well, mostly Texas. Echo, “Shadow 1-3,” is a former member of Force Recon, and a skilled fighter as well as an expert at blowing shit up. Deeks, “Shadow 1-5,” is one of the best snipers that I know. Hell, he’s even better than I am, able to put a bullet through the head of a guy one or two miles away. Tequila, “Shadow 1-4,” is a former Army Ranger and a fair shot. She is a demolition expert like Echo but a better fighter, as she knows four types of martial arts and she really enjoys this black ops shit. In fact, I dare say she enjoys too much of it. These guys are some of the most badass motherfuckers and I’m proud to be leading this team.

#spooks #jessica sawyer #austin blackward #britney eckhart #teresa aquila #roger keegan #chapter 2 #act 1 #specter #black #echo #tequila #deeks

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elonedion-blog · 5 years

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Meet Nigerian M.C who speaks eight languages

Nigeria, despite her many challenges, parades incredible talents in all spheres of life. One of the shining lights is Adedeji Odulesi, a Warri born son of an Ijebu man, who mesmerizes his audience with eight languages at corporate events as Master of Ceremonies. His vast knowledge of languages and cultures helps him pronounce names most appropriately to give everyone, irrespective of ethnic background, a great sense of belonging. He is endowed with good command of British English, Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba (Ijebu dialect inclusive) French, German, and Spanish languages. The linguist, master of ceremonies extraordinaire, and Church minister tells his story in this interview with P.M.NEWS’ TAIWO OKANLAWON AND MICHEAL ADESINA. Excerpts: How has 2019 been so far for you? 2019 has been fantastic for me as a person, career wise because, I have been an MC since 2006 really. Recognition of what I do began in 2019. Odulesi entertaining guests at a public function. How did you discover that this is what you want to do? I am very passionate about learning languages. So in 2006, someone wanted to wed, so they asked me to come and anchor it. I said no, I don’t know how to really anchor an event but they said no I must do it for them, anyhow I do it. So I went ahead with trepidation and I did it. Even though, I didn’t know the rules of anchoring, I just did whatever I taught I saw people do in wedding and I gave the language flair. That time I could speak Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba, French and English, and in the hall, people began to clap and clap and that gave me a motivation. So I thought is like I can do this thing, it’s like people like this thing. Right from there people started to book me for events, but it was free and I was too glad too. That was how I started. Who is Adedeji Odulesi? Adedeji Odulesi is a hundred percent Yoruba man by birth, Ijebu to be precise, my dad is from Iperu in Ogun State while my mum is from Poka in Lagos State. Odulesi with the Minister of State, Niger Delta, Barrister Festus Keyamo at a public event. Can you take us through the journey of how you became a Polyglot? I was born in Warri, Delta State and I did my primary school there. Warri is a town where you have so many nationalities, you have Isoko, Itshekiri, Ijaw, Urobo. Then the variances of Ibo like Kwalian as other Nigerians that are all there. So what I could just pick there was Pidgin English but we have Ibo neighbours and they used to abuse me using their language like Onyeosi, Onyeara but I could not understand beyond that. So, there was that early childhood desire to know what other things they were saying about me. That was how I had desire to learn Igbo but I learnt Pidgin there, I learnt normal English and I learnt. My father was a civil servant in Warri, working as a teacher at Federal Government College, Warri. Eventually, he was transferred from there to Sokoto State. At Sokoto, I now made Hausa people my friends intentionally to learn the Hausa language and I enjoyed leaning the language. Actually, the Hausa language is a very simple language to learn and the people too would want to teach you the language, so I quickly learnt the language. I was in the North for ten years. All of my primary four to six and JSS1 to SS3 years were in the North. Then I came back to the North for my Youth Service in Kaduna. Nine years in Sokoto and one year in Kaduna. So I was able to, more or less, perfect the Hausa language. I went to Federal Government Sokoto for my Secondary school, while I was there, we did French in Junior class and in JSS3, I was like the best student in French but you know those childhood dreams of I want to be a doctor, I want to be engineer and so on, I went to Science class and I did Further Mathematics. So I couldn’t do French because there are some subjects you must combine together, so I had to drop French, it was painful. The pride of ‘I am a Further Mathematician’ robbed me of learning French in Secondary school. At that point, my parents had been transferred to the East, Owerri to be precise. So I joined them after finishing Secondary school in 1991. There, I started learning the Igbo language. I knew I had a short time because the plan was to study Agriculture in the West. So after Secondary school, I was thinking of becoming a medical doctor. So, I was taking JAMBs but could not meet up with cut off marks. Hence, I just aligned myself to my passion which is Agriculture. I like Agriculture, so I choose the course. While I was in the East, I stayed at home to learn and attend prep courses to prepare for JAMB. So, I didn’t really have the opportunity of mixing much with Igbo people but what I did was that, the church I attended they do interpretation there, so I when go to church, I go with an Igbo Bible and when they are reading in English, I am reading in Igbo even when I don’t understand, eventually when the interpreter reads, I would understand better. So I was doing that for about two to three years in the East. It was like I was in a language class and I also listen to radio a lot while I was in the East. There was Ibo Broadcasting Cooperation which had a lot of good music that I could flow with, so with that I was able to get the basics of Ibo language. From there I got admission into the Federal University of Agriculture, Abeokuta in 1992. I have passion for Agriculture and that is why I went there. So while I was in university, I picked up the French again. I ran into a friend whose uncle came back from abroad and came with cassette and book in French and German. I heard the German was a difficult language, so I put it aside and faced French. The book is titled ‘French in Three Months’. I copied the cassette and book and I started to use it. It was a fantastic experience for me and the secret was to do thirty minutes every day. There were some foreign students I interacted with too and before I left the school, the school had recognized somebody who could speak French and started using me for school activities when they had international programs and things like that. So I graduated as the best graduating student in General Studies and you know GNS is Art. When I go to library to read, I read about different cultures in the world and I was very good and came out as the best student in General Studies with my passion for Agriculture and up till date I still practice my Agriculture but the language side has kept coming up. So, by 2006 people saw in me somebody with qualities of an MC but I never saw myself, and when I was invited for that wedding, it was fantastic. Thereafter, I started getting invitations which I was attending for free before people started giving me two thousand naira, and two thousand naira meant a lot to me then, later it was increased to five thousand naira. How many languages do you speak at the moment? Right now I speak the three major languages in Nigeria, Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba. Then I speak English naturally. If you count Pidgin, because it’s a language, at BBC, there is a station for Pidgin entirely. They pay people to broadcast in Pidgin. Then I do speak French, German and Spanish. That’s eight languages and of course I understand my local dialect too which is Ijebu. Adedeji Odulesi in BBC How did you later learn German and Spanish? For German, in 2016, an organization called me to come and anchor an event for them at Ilorin, so I went there and still did the language stuff and people were fascinated. Then, somebody walked up to me and spoke German to me and I didn’t understand anything but I felt that the language looks a bit like English so I told the person that the next time we meet I will be speaking the language. So that 2016, I met a corps member who was attending GOETHE institute. She told me about the institute and by September 2016, I started attending afternoon and evening classes for German. When we finished the first three months I was the best in my class and I was offered a scholarship to proceed to the next level. Those exams are A1 and A2 Beginner, B1 and B2 Intermediate and C1 and C2 Advanced. So I did A1 on scholarship and somebody else took A2 and I now did B1 which means my German is at Intermediate level. For Spanish, I didn’t really find any place to study. I study online and I have books. This one is called ‘Beginner Spanish’. I also learn by watching YouTube videos. Then, another secret of my learning is that I have a bible in every language that I speak. At any point in time I pick up any bible. So when I go to church, people are looking at me, you know at times, you look at the Bible in your friend’s hand and you don’t understand anything. So all those things helped me to improve on the languages. Have you looked beyond MC, like going into academics? Yes, it is really a futuristic plan because many people have approached me that I need to open an institution. I don’t really need to teach but I can get good hands and can easily monitor them because, I know what the language is all about. Do you have relationship with others in the industry? Sure, we must work hand in hand. If there is an evening program like a Gala Night, a comedian will be needed aside from the MC who will pilot the program to come and give five minutes jokes, we call them just like we will call cultural group to come and dance. So, there is a role for each person to play. What would you say is the best part about being a Polyglot? A Polyglot is someone who understands many languages, is that not so? So anywhere I go to, I find it easy to blend and to be spotted out because as I come across people, it may be by somebody’s intonation, I can easily tell, this person is an Ibo or this person is a Hausa. So the ability to interact is there, and then, it is very rewarding, people will want to relate with you because once you can speak someone’s language, the person will assume you are the same with him, so he accepts you. Hence, I have so many friends and have accessibility. I have eaten different kinds of foods and I have been to different places. You have 8 languages at your disposal that you speak, which other languages are you planning to learning? I am planning to learn Portuguese because it is very similar to Spanish, which means if a Portuguese is speaking I seem to get what they’re saying. It is just like someone speaking Egba and I am Ijebu, I seem to get what he’s saying. Then, I also want to learn Arabic and Swahili because they’re languages spoken in vast area in Africa. The whole of Eastern block of Africa speaks Swahili and the whole of the Northern block of Africa speaks Arabic, so those are the languages I want to learn and I like the way the languages sound too, It is not just that I want to learn them, there must be something that keys you to the language. A language might be spoken by the whole world and you don’t like the way it is spoken so you are not interested. Do you have any one you can refer to as key influence to your success? There is someone who has been very influential. Who has been like a mentor, a young man like me. Not that he makes me go to events, rather what he does is that anytime I have an event, I go to him that how do I anchor this kind of event and he says do it this way. So he’s been a generous mentor but a reserved person not wanting publicity. He is a senior colleague in the same industry. What are those challenges you have faced? You see, the languages themselves don’t come easy. Learning Hausa for instance, I found it so easy. Learning German for instance, I found it so difficult even though I was the best in the class and I got scholarship. I ran away from it at first but because of that challenge I got in 2016, I picked it up because I like challenges. Another challenge is Spanish. I hardly come across a Spanish speaker in Nigeria, unlike French. I meet French people all around, you even come across it being spoken on radio. And for German, you don’t too often meet German speakers, but at least, you know that GOETHE institute is here and when you go there you see people speaking German. But Spanish, though a simple language and easy to learn, you hardly come across people to speak it to in Nigeria. Then, another challenge is that people think those who speak many languages are 419. So you’re a corporate MC and passionate about Agriculture. What else do you do? Aside those two, I’m a minister, a pastor, a committed Christian and a gentleman (laugh). Do your wife and children speak more than one language as well? Interestingly, my wife is French teacher. We met basically via French learning. I went to a French speaking church. We had a French session, so I went there to improve my French and that’s where I met my wife. So we do French together. I also speak French and German with my two children, Chioma and Chinedu, at home, whether they understand or they don’t. Why Ibo names? Well, if you watch my video, I ended it by saying I am detribalized. It is another secret of learning languages. A real Polyglot is detribalized, he does not hate any tribe, and he does not claim any tribe. He relates freely with all cultures. He just happened to have been born in a particular culture. I could have even married an Ibo woman but I could not find but I married the one I saw that could also speak French. So I love the Ibos like I love the Hausas. So, my first child happens to be a girl and I named her Chioma Oluwademilade Odulesi and it’s in the birth certificate. She’s actually Jumaih in Hausa because she was born on Friday. She’s a complete Wazobia. My son is Adebola Chinedu Odulesi, the Chinedu is in the birth certificate too. What advice do you have for this generation or people who also want to learn more languages? Age is no barrier for learning a language, let that be gotten clear. It is how you plan your time and in fact as a mature adult, you have the ability to even learn better because there are gadgets all around you that you can use, YouTube, subtitle of movies. A child cannot do that. Why children learn fast is because they are unbiased and unashamed. Even the English they speak when they make mistake and you correct them they keep speaking it but we adults, we tend to be shy, if I make mistake people will laugh at me and you watch what you say. So age is not a barrier. There are many Apps you can download to learn the languages. What I will say to this generation is that, parents in particular, open your minds, do not say because the child is learning Yoruba, his English will be affected, no, if he is learning Yoruba at home, his English will be better because the brain now has capacity to accept more, the brain is like boxes. So parents should encourage their children. And when they travel for vacation, why do you keep going to English speaking countries? Go to France, Belgium or Spain for vacations. You can even go to Togo, Benin here or even the North if you can’t afford to travel abroad. So don’t be born in Oyo, primary school, Oyo, secondary school, Oyo, university, UI and get married there (laugh), they won’t even come to Lagos, everything about them is Oyo. So, broaden the mind, the mind has capacity to learn and then, it gives added advantage for employments.

COPIED!

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oakpodcast · 7 years

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Transmission 1 Transcript

TRANSMISSION 1

MUSIC: INTRO, "SOLITUDE" BY MUCIOJAD

SOUND: ... --- .../... --- .../... --- .../... --- ...

HOLLY: This is Holly, broadcasting on all frequencies using protocol: MINISTER DELTA. This transmission is intended for Oak, last known location CAESAR casino in PRAGUE; all others please disregard. Repeat, this transmission is intended for Oak, last known location CAESAR casino in PRAGUE; all others please disregard.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I’m at a loss for any other way to contact you. If you receive this transmission, please confirm via Minister Delta protocol. I’ve set up social media and Gmail drops under the username "OAKPODCAST." That’s Oscar Alpha Kilo Peru Oscar Delta Charlie Alpha Sierra Tango. Consider any of our previous means of communication compromised.

SOUND: -.-- - .. ..-

(MUSIC FADING OUT, CITY SOUNDS FADING IN)

HOLLY: (cont’d) SitRep: Date: March... 11th, I think. Time: 8:42 A.M. Location: Unknown. Mission: Unknown. Transportation to mission location: Also unknown. Basically, assume everything is unknown for the time being. I have no idea what the hell is going on or why I woke up on the sidewalk, but here I am.

SOUND: ... ..- .--. .---

HOLLY: (cont’d) I’m telling myself it’s just like any other field mission, but I think that’s the wrong narrative. On any other field mission I would have your voice in my ear, keeping me safe, telling me what to do and where to go. And I don’t have any of that right now. HOLLY: (cont’d) I keep expecting to hear your voice, telling me to go left, that the server room is just a few meters away and I’m doing great.

SOUND: -- .. ..- .--. --.- ..-

HOLLY: (cont’d) My memory’s gotten pretty bad since you left. I’ve gotten even worse about remembering to do things like take my meds or even eat, and my current situation is not doing any favors for my mental health, so I apologize in advance for how disjointed my thoughts must seem.

HOLLY: (cont’d) You’ve always been able to read my mind, more or less. And I know if you were here, you would just... know without me saying anything. But... you’re not. So I have to use all of my energy to try to communicate coherently.

SOUND: --- ..- --.- -- .-.. -.- --.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I don’t know how much you know about my situation. I don’t know if you’re in a similar situation yourself, or if this is a refresher survival test and you’re watching me make a fool of myself, or if you’re still deep undercover with total radio silence. The last time I heard anything about your status was right after they shipped you off, right before Christmas.

HOLLY: (cont’d) As far as I know, that’s where you still are, but... I’m a little worried you went rogue and went on some kind of vengeance-fueled murder rampage, and now you’re dead or imprisoned, and I’ll never know because... that’s just how it works.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I can’t do what I need to survive and think like that. So I’m going to take a page out of your book and get through whatever this is via pretending and optimism.

HOLLY: (cont’d) So here’s me, pretending you’re still alive. Still listening to my nervous transmissions from the field, and still waiting to swoop in and rescue me.

SOUND: -.- ..- ..- --.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I’m going to act under the assumption you’ve been kept completely in the dark about... whatever my situation is and debrief accordingly.

HOLLY: (cont’d) My leave was approved a few days after you were deployed. And during the past three months, I think I left the house twice-once in January to pick up the birthday package you sent me (thank you, by the way) and once this month-yesterday-for the tribunal.

HOLLY: (cont’d) Not guilty, obviously. We knew that going into it. We both called it when the investigation was opened. I don’t know why I thought- (Sighs softly.)

HOLLY: (cont’d) Even worse, they said there was an investigation into me for defamation of character and slander or something along those lines. I don’t know. I pretty much went deaf as soon as they said they were investigating me instead.

HOLLY: (cont’d) Anyway. I went home, locked myself in the apartment with a bottle of wine, and passed out somewhere into my second glass.

HOLLY: (cont’d) This morning I woke up and... I don’t know where I am. I think I might be in the Southern U.S., but I’m not sure yet.

HOLLY: (cont’d) It seems pretty likely that this was an inside job, someone high up in the military with access to my apartment, but that... that’s really hard to believe. And even harder to think about at all

SOUND: . .-.. .-.. --.

HOLLY: (cont’d) (Resigned sigh) Right. Inventory. I have one pair of prescription eyeglasses, one very wrinkled skirtsuit and white blouse, one pair of dress flats, one phone charger, and the smartphone I’m currently talking into-a burner, I assume, although no one has contacted it so far.

HOLLY: (cont’d) Of all the outfits to get stranded in, it had to be a skirt and dress shoes. Really?

HOLLY: (cont’d) Anyway, I’m currently attempting to acquire a library card and a micro SD card so I can unlock the bootloader, root the phone, and then flash a new rom to it. (Laughs) Obviously, the tech stuff will be child’s play for me. Acquiring the other two items, not so much.

SOUND: --.- -.-. ..- .. ... ..- ---

HOLLY: (cont’d) I’m really glad you appreciate my very... specialized skillset. If you need something hacked with a cell phone, or rewired with tweezers and a lighter, or blown up using only someone’s lunch and some toilet cleaner? Easy. But God forbid I ever have to talk to anyone!

HOLLY: (cont’d) The amount of times I’ve had to fake something obscene with... wow, everyone on Yule Team? (I feel like we should keep stats on that.) What I really can’t believe is that Evergreen and Camellia never so much as made out on an assignment. How is it that they’re married, and yet I made out with Camellia more than Evergreen has on a mission? To say nothing of all the times you and I had to—

SOUND: .--- ..- --. -.. .- .--. ..

HOLLY: (cont’d) Sorry, I digress. For just a second there, I was... happy. I forgot about everything that happened with... (sigh)

HOLLY: (cont’d) Moving on... what if your philosophy about leadership changed? Did you suddenly decide that I needed to improve my weak areas? Is this all a training exercise for my own good? I guess that would actually be the most comforting explanation. (Sighs)

SOUND: .- .--. --- ..-

HOLLY: (cont’d) This is real life, right? I’m not magically on the set of Burn Notice 2?

HOLLY: (cont’d) God, I can totally picture you sitting in your hotel in Prague, watching every season of Burn Notice and coming up with some sort of sadistic team-building exercise to do when you got back. Please tell me that’s what’s happening right now.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I think in any branch of the military, a lot of things "don’t officially happen," especially to women. I mean, how else do you explain yesterday, otherwise? I guess this is just one more thing that "didn’t happen."

HOLLY: (cont’d) All of our social media profiles, real and fake, seem to have been destroyed. I never thought about how much I might wish I had pictures of you until now, when I have no way of getting any.

HOLLY: (cont’d) There are worse things to worry about, obviously. Like, I can’t get into any of my email accounts, or even my PayPal account. I can’t even dial outside America to reach anyone I know. Not that I have anyone to call, really. People in our line of work generally don’t have a lot of friends and family. I think that’s intentional. Normally I would call someone on Yule Team, but...

SOUND: - --- -... ..- -.- ...

HOLLY: (cont’d) If you are still alive, I think I know a way to transmit these broadcasts more securely. Remember when Agent Sharma went dark and then set up that Patreon account so we could access her private RSS feed without blowing her cover? I hope you remember, since you pinned the medal on her after that mission.

HOLLY: (cont’d) Well, anyway, I’ve set up a page at patreon.com/oakpodcast. I don’t expect to be able to get by off of it, although, obviously, anything you send me would be a huge help. but if nothing else, I can send you certain information there that I’d rather not broadcast to the entire world.

SOUND: -.... / .-- ..- ..- ....

HOLLY: Really, if it weren’t for the lack of papers and money and actual accommodations and food, this actually wouldn’t be a terrible vacation. It’s somewhere new and warm, far away from... you know.

HOLLY: Also, there’s plenty of opportunity to be alone here, which is one of my favorite things. Present company excluded, of course. I think you know that by now.

HOLLY: (cont’d) That said, everything is really expensive when you have nothing. Hotels, ready to eat food-it’s a lot. And that’s not even touching the vehicle I’ll need to live in long-term.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I really need papers as soon as possible, if our old friend will still speak to me. Maybe she’ll work on credit? I can’t get a plane ticket home or any kind of job or government assistance without an ID, so I’m making it priority one.

HOLLY: (cont’d) I don’t know what else to say.

MUSIC: OUTRO, SOLITUDE BY MUCIOJAD

HOLLY: I’m going to try to take care of things while I wait for your response. I’ll report back in a few days.

SOUND: --. ..- .--. --. .. -.. -.- ..-

HOLLY: Oak, please confirm receipt of my transmission. Again, you can reach me on multiple platforms under the username "OAKPODCAST." Secondly, you can help me survive by donating to my Patreon, patreon.com/oakpodcast. That’s also where I’ll transmit more sensitive broadcasts-as soon as I figure out exactly how to do that from my phone.

HOLLY: If you’re listening to this and you’re not Oak, you can make up for invading my privacy by rating and reviewing this broadcast, which will hopefully help my partner find me. End transmission.

#transcripts #oakpodcast

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frolwriting · 6 years

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Aliens in London Part 2

Hey guys! Look who's keeping up with their schedule! As promised here is the next part of Through Time and Space. Go to my masterlist to see the other chapters. Alright here we go!

________________________________________________________________

"Doctor, where are we?" I asked as the TARDIS landed roughly.

"Albion Hospital. This is supposedly where the alien was taken." He said opening the doors. "Come on, we have a mystery to solve." I smiled and followed him out in a store room that was definitely in a hospital. He unlocked the door with his sonic screwdriver. "Shush!"

"Doctor, yelling at your sonic screwdriver is not going to help anything." He gave me a slight glare. We made our way into a room that had a bunch of guys with weapons in it. We just stare at each other for a moment, then the soldiers grabbed their weapons and pointed them at us. Something then bursts out of the cooler, and the doctor lady screamed.

"Defense plan delta! Come on! Move! Move!" He led the soldiers out of the room to where the screams were heard. I followed suit. We made our way to the Mortuary, where the doctor lady was cowering by her desk.

"It's alive!" The lady said.

"Spread out. Tell the perimeter it's a lockdown." The doctor said, but the soldiers didn't move.

"My god, it's still alive." Even though I knew what was going on, I didn't know what I should do.

"Do it!" The doctor yelled. "Kate, take this first aid kit. She's bleeding. Stay here and don't leave please." He said heading out as well. I went over and knelt down next to the lady.

"Hi, my name's Kate. What is your name?"

"Dr. Sato." The lady said.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Sato. Your wound doesn't look too bad luckily. Looks like you just need a bandaid. Is anything else wrong?"

"No." I cleaned her would and put a bandaid on it. Just then the Doctor came back in. After I was done, I sat down next to her.

"Dr. Sato, if you don't mind will you tell me what happened?" I asked putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I swear it was dead." Dr. Sato said.

"Coma, shock, hibernation, anything. What does it look like?" The Doctor said as we heard some metal clattering. "It's still here." The Doctor went over to the door and gestured to a soldier who was standing by the door. "Watch over her please. Kate come here." I stood up and went over to him. Just then we noticed there was a pig-like creature behind a filing cabinet. "Hello." Just then the pig ran out on its hind legs. The weird part was it was wearing a spacesuit. The soldier raised his gun.

"Don't shoot!" Me and the Doctor yelled in unison. Just then a different soldier shot the pig.

"What did you do that for? It was scared! It was scared." I just glared at the soldier.

"I thought that was the alien!" The soldier said. "If that wasn't the alien, then what was it?" The Doctor went on to explain the meaning for the pig being like it was.

"I just assumed that's what aliens look like, but you're saying it's an ordinary pig from Earth." Sato said.

"More like a mermaid. Victorian showmen used to draw the crowds by taking the skull of a cat, gluing it to a fish and calling it a mermaid. Now someone's taken a pig, opened up its brain, stuck bits on, then they've strapped it in that ship and made it dive bomb. It must've been terrified. They've taken this animal and turned it into a joke."

"That is just awful." I said looking disgusted.

"Kate, can you tell me anything?" The Doctor looked at me hopeful.

"No, sorry I can't tell you. It might mess something up." I said sad.

"So, this is a fake, a pretend, like the mermaid. Aliens are faking aliens, but why would they do that? Doctor?" By the time she said that, we had left to go into the TARDIS. We then dematerialized from the hospital.

"Where we going now?" I asked. He didn't say anything. We materialized and after a bit Rose, Mickey, and Jackie walked into the TARDIS.

"All right, so I lied. Me and Kate went and had a look, but the whole crash landing's a fake. I thought so. Just too perfect. I mean, hitting Big Ben. Come on, so I thought let's go and have a look. Didn't I, Kate?" I just nodded my head. No sense in arguing right now.

"My mum's here." Rose said.

"Oh, that's just what I need. Don't you dare make this place domestic. The only domestic allowed is me and Kate." He said putting his arm around me.

"You ruined my life, you two. They thought she was dead. I was a murder suspect because of you!" Mickey said.

"You see what I mean? Domestic. There's only room for me and Kate and a companion in this TARDIS." I just rolled my eyes.

"I bet you don't even remember my name."

"Ricky." The Doctor said.

"Oh, I know!" I said excitedly. "Its Mickey!"

"Well, okay you know." Mickey said still mad.

"See, she always knows. She remembers so I don't." The Doctor said doing something with the console. Just then Jackie started walking out of the TARDIS.

"No! Mum!" Rose said as she started chasing after her mother. After a minute, Rose came back in. "So, that was a real spaceship?"

"Yep." Me and the Doctor said.

"So it's all a pack of lies? What is it, then? Are they invading?"

"Funny way to invade, putting the world on red alert."

"Good point! So, what're they up to?" The Doctor then started to go under the console to do something. "So, what're you doing down there?"

"Ricky."

"Mickey."

"Ricky. If I was to tell you what I was doing to the controls of my frankly magnificent time ship, would you even begin to understand?"

"I suppose not." Mickey walked over to where Rose was standing, and I walked over to the Doctor.

"Doctor, play nice." I said crossing my arms.

"I am! I'm just stating a fact."

"At least get his name right."

"I'm pretty sure its Ricky." I just rolled my eyes. After a bit, the Doctor popped up from under the console. "Got it! Ha, ha! Patched in the radar, looped it back twelve hours so we can follow the flight of that spaceship. Here we go. Hold on. Come on." The Doctor said as he was trying to fix the camera radar thing on the screen. He then pointed at the spaceship that was on the screen. "That's the spaceship on its way to Earth, see. Except, hold on. See? The spaceship did a sling shot around the Earth before it landed." The Doctor said playing the video.

"What does that mean?" Rose asked.

"It means it came from Earth. It went up and came back down." I said.

"The question is, what have they been doing?" The Doctor asked. After that, me, Mickey, and Rose were looking through the channels on the scanner thing while the Doctor was doing something.

"How many channels do you get?" Mickey asked.

"All the basic channels."

"You get sports channels?"

"Yes, I get the football. Kate that means soccer for you."

"You yanks and your soccer." Rose said sounding slightly disgusted.

"Hey, don't diss where I come from." I said crossing my arms. She just rolled her eyes. "I miss baseball. That's my favorite. You guys' baseball doesn't come close to good ole American baseball." I said going over to where the Doctor was because I felt very offended. Just as I had walked over, Mickey flipped the channel to the news.

"It is looking likely that the Government's bringing in alien specialists- those people who have devoted their lives to studying outer space." The lady on the tv said.

"UNIT. United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Good people." The Doctor said. I nodded my head.

"How do you two know them?" Rose asked.

"'Cos they've worked for them. Oh yeah, don't think I sat on my backside for twelve months, Doctor. I read up on you and Kate. You look deep enough on the Internet or in the history books, and there's their names, followed by a list of the dead." I felt really sad that in the future I may cause lots of deaths. The Doctor noticed my behavior and pushed me behind him in a protective way.

"You can say anything you want about me, but don't drag Kate into anything that was and will be my fault. She hasn't done anything. This Kate is new to everything. You two keep bashing her, and I don't appreciate that." The Doctor said then went back to the console. I stood as close as I could to the Doctor. I grabbed his hand, and he gave a gentle squeeze letting me know he was there for me.

"If you know them, why don't you go and help?" Rose asked.

"They wouldn't recognize me. I've changed a lot since the old days. Kate looks a lot younger since the last time she saw them." I gave him a confused look. He just gave me a look that said don't ask. "Besides, the world's on knife-edge. There's aliens out there and fake aliens. We want to keep this alien out of the mix. I'm going undercover, and er, I'd better keep the TARDIS out of sight. Ricky, you've got a car. You can do some driving."

"Where to?"

"The roads are clearing. Let's go and have a look at that spaceship." We walked out of the TARDIS into a helicopter spotlight. The Doctor tightened his grip on my hand.

"Do not move! Step away from the box and raise your hands above your heads." A policeman said. We were surrounded. The Doctor just held onto my hand. Mickey ran off, and Jackie came out of the flat.

"Rose!" Jackie yells trying to get to Rose, but a policeman held her back.

"Raise your hands above your head. You are under arrest." I let go of the Doctor's hand and raised my hands. The Doctor did the same.

"Take me to your leader." He said as I rolled my eyes. Me, the Doctor, and Rose were crammed into the back of the police car with the Doctor in the middle.

"This is a bit posh. If I knew it was going to be like this, being arrested, I would have done it years ago." I rolled my eyes.

"Getting arrested isn't always like this." I said.

"And plus weren't got being arrested, we're being escorted." The Doctor said.

"Where to?" Rose asked.

"Where'd you think? Downing Street." The Doctor said.

"You're kidding."

"He's not." I said.

"10 Downing Street?"

"That's the one." The Doctor said.

"Oh my god, I'm going to 10 Downing Street? How come?"

"I hate to say it, but Mickey was right. Over the years, me and Kate have visited this planet a lot of times, and we've been, er, noticed."

"Now they need you?"

"Like it said on the news. They're gathering experts in alien knowledge, and who's the biggest experts of the lot?"

"Patrick Moore?"

"Apart from him."

"Oh, don't you just love it." Rose was still acting like I wasn't there.

"I'm telling you. Lloyd George, he used to drink me under the table. Who's the Prime Minister now?"

"How should I know? I missed a year." We finally got to Downing Street and there was a ton of press taking pictures of us. "Oh, my god." We were escorted into a waiting room of some sorts. After a bit, a man came in.

"Ladies and gentlemen, can we convene?" We moved towards the man. "Quick as we can, please. It's this way on the right, and can I remind you ID cards are to be worn at all times." He hands me and the Doctor an I.D. I was very surprised that I got one. "Here's your ID cards. I'm sorry, your companion doesn't have clearance." I looked at the Doctor, and he gave me a look that said he'll explain later.

"We don't go anywhere without our companion." The Doctor said. I nodded.

"You two are the code nine, not her." Wow I'm a code nine? "I'm sorry, Doctor, Kate. It is the Doctor and Kate isn't it? She'll have to stay outside."

"She's staying with us." The Doctor said frustrated.

"Look, even I don't have clearance to go in there. I can't let her in and that's a fact."

"It's all right. You two go." She said putting a hand on the Doctor. Jealousy went through me again. Just then I noticed a very important woman, who won't let you ever forget her name come up.

"Excuse me. Are you the Doctor and Kate?" Harriet Jones said.

"Sure." Me and the Doctor said.

"I just need a word in private."

"I suppose so. Come on Kate." He pointed at Rose. "Don't get in trouble." We left but Harriet didn't go with us. We entered the briefing room, and the Doctor started looking at some of the papers.

"What do they say?" I asked.

"Not a whole lot of anything of importance. Can you tell me anything?" He said looking at me hopefully. I just shook my head. He sighed. "I don't remember a whole lot of this adventure. Something doesn't feel right though." He then looked at me with wide eyes.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please." A man at the front of the room started saying. "As you can see from the summaries in front of you, the ship had one porcine occupant." I grabbed the Doctor's hand in fear.

"Of course, the really interesting bit happened three days ago, see, filed away under Any Other Business. The North Sea. A satellite detected a signal, a little blip of radiation, at one hundred fathoms, like there's something down there. You were just about to investigate and the next thing you know, this happens. Spaceships, pigs, massive diversion. From what?" The Doctor asked. I was even more terrified remembering what was happening. "If aliens fake an alien crash and an alien pilot, what do they get? Us. They get us. It's not a diversion, it's a trap." He squeezed my hand tightly and pulled me closer to him. "This is all about us. Alien experts. The only people with knowledge how to fight them gathered together in one room." There was a fart from the guy up front. "Excuse me, do you mind not farting while I'm saving the world?"

"Would you rather silent but deadly?" The man asked. The general removed his cap and unzipped his forehead. Suddenly the room was filled with blue light and the Slitheen wriggled out of his human suit.

"We are the Slitheen." The general said.

"Thank you all for wearing your ID cards. They'll help to identify the bodies." I had already took my ID card off and threw it behind me. I didn't know if I would survive the shock. Green held up a switch, and everyone's ID cards emit electric shocks to everyone wearing them. The shock going through the Doctor went through the hand I was holding and went through me too. Everything went black after that.

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #through time and space

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shirlleycoyle · 3 years

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How the Pandemic Changed Antarctica

This is part of a special series, We’re Reemerging. What Does the World Look Like Now?, which considers in real time how we cope while living through a historic time. It’s also in the latest VICE magazine. Subscribe here.

Matt Williams arrived in Antarctica on January 15, 2020, to lead Australia’s Mawson research station on the east side of the continent. Two months later, he watched as Australia entered its first coronavirus lockdown. But as events were canceled and businesses closed, Williams’s life on the other side of the world didn’t really change. He continued working, befriended a penguin he named Smudge, hung out at the station’s outdoor bar, celebrated Pride, and even took a plunge into Antarctic waters.

His is the story of many Antarctic residents over the past year and a half. When most of the world began shutting down in March 2020, only Antarctica was (at that point) spared from the coronavirus pandemic. Amid the snow-covered mountains, vast plateaus, and icy beaches, scientists and research station workers found themselves shielded from the deadly virus, only witnessing the vigorous hand-washing, sudden isolation, and symptoms of COVID-19 family and friends endured via stories told from thousands of miles away.

At stations on the continent, residents hunkered down for a winter together—without social distance. Moving to Antarctica these days doesn’t just entail packing up your parka and mentally preparing for the subzero temperatures. After intensive quarantines and coronavirus testing, it offers what many people around the world might call a luxury: Freedom from pandemic-related restrictions.

While Antarctic residents have sheltered away from the pandemic in an isolation of their own making, they have managed more safe socialization with their fellow residents than most people around the world experienced this year. Still, the very continent they live on has continued to struggle under the weight of diplomatic pressures and environmental concerns. Tensions over Antarctic fishing rights, funding, construction work, and more have intensified as international meetings have been canceled or moved online—making the continent’s already fragile, and complex, governance system all the more delicate. “The pandemic in general reinforced, but accelerated, preexisting trends,” said Alan Hemmings, a professor at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand.

The incongruous struggles Antarctica has faced over the past year are reflected in the return of Antarctic researchers to a pandemic-stricken home. “Adaptation back this time has been very different, and a few weeks into my return, my head is still in learning and reaction mode,” said Williams, who returned to Tasmania on April 13 of this year. “We left one world and have come back to another.”

Williams with emperor penguins

Antoinette Traub, a supply technician with the United States’ National Science Foundation, arrived on the continent in December 2020, and will stay at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station until at least November 2021. A few months after she had arrived, Antarctica’s winter set in; temperatures had begun to drop to below minus 50 Celsius, and the continent was shrouded in winter darkness. Few flights go in or out from March to October each year. “The last flight [from Amundsen] was in February,” she said, “and we will not see any new faces—nor receive fresh fruits like apples and oranges—until November.”

Lack of sunlight aside, Traub and her colleagues keep busy. Residents meet in the gym daily for a morning stretch, the station’s chefs keep everyone well fed (fresh doughnuts or bagels are prepared daily, and a week’s dinner menu in April read “Monday: Chicken Piccata; Tuesday: Salmon and Taco Bowls; Wednesday: Gyros; Thursday: Pho and Egg Foo Young; Friday: Swedish Meatballs; and Saturday: BBQ Ribs”), and movie marathons abound. “We currently have three ongoing movie marathons on station,” said Traub. “All the Stanley Kubrick, David Fincher, and Marvel Cinematic Universe films in their respective order. We’re currently watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, Zodiac, and Thor.” One day a week, Traub volunteers at the station’s hydroponic greenhouse.

Traub also has a TikTok account that boasts over a million followers. “My parents kept asking for updates, [so] I thought the best way to show them was over social media,” she said. “I had no idea it would blow up the way it has.” The TikToks show Traub’s daily life in Antarctica, one that is wildly distant to most of her viewers; she takes walks amid glaciers, does fun science experiments, and works. When she was at the U.S.’s McMurdo Station, Traub hung out with penguins. Her day-to-day assignments vary; sometimes she organizes the station’s waste to send back to the U.S. (no trash can stay on the continent), and other days she audits station inventory and brings supplies to different departments.

Traub’s colleague Katharine Smith, another supply technician, has been in Antarctica since September. This is Smith’s third time living on the continent, and while she’s enjoying the relative freedom compared with the months of lockdown she experienced prior, she said it’s also been disconcerting to watch the pandemic impact Antarctica’s around 100 stations. “With precautions taken to prevent COVID from getting to the continent, the population at all stations remained extremely low and construction was put on hold,” said Smith. “This year I believe McMurdo only had about 400 people at most [out of a capacity of over a thousand], and [Amundsen-Scott Station] only reached 61 rather than topping out at 150.” This makes the vital scientific research conducted on these stations all the more difficult. The smaller number of staff has impacted the science too, said Martin Wolf, an astro-particle physicist from Germany who is currently working at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station studying neutrino particles. Instead, programs and activities “have been mainly rescheduled to the coming years after the pandemic.”

Antoinette Traub and Katharine Smith

Even so, Smith has made the most of her time. “I launched weather balloons, drove a Delta truck, viewed the transit of Mercury through a telescope, flew to the South Pole in the cockpit of an LC-130, saw penguins and newborn seals,” Smith said. “It’s easy to start taking things for granted here since you are so immersed in it 24/7.” But, at the same time, she added, “I have been in this protected COVID-free bubble for almost eight months now. Life here feels normal to me.”

“To be honest, I might need to cut my social calendar back a little to get more solo recharge time,” said Erin Heard, the U.S. winter manager at McMurdo Station who has been in Antarctica, or on the way to the continent, for most of the pandemic.

Residents on other stations have felt similarly. “A lot of people said to us that we really did pick the best year to be away, in the most isolated place on the planet. And in a way that is true,” said Williams, the Australian station leader. “We did not, until resupply and our first human contact 16 months later, have to socially distance, limit use of gyms, avoid social occasions or limit shared meals and travel. Whatever that actually looks like on Antarctic stations is vastly different from anything you can imagine at home—but we still lived a life we expected and planned for, to some degree. We also did not live in real fear of our own personal health—we knew we were isolated enough to not get COVID.”

The outdoor ice bar

Mike Brian, a station leader at Britain’s Rothera Research Station in Antarctica, was there when the pandemic began, and went back to the UK in May 2020. He returned to Antarctica a few months later, and only recently went home again; he has colleagues that just left Antarctica after being away for the majority of the pandemic thus far. “They weren’t that far from missing it completely,” said Brian. “By the time they got back in, the vaccine had been developed and was available.”

Rothera residents had similar daily routines to their U.S. counterparts; after the workday, according to Brian, they watched movies, worked out, and took coastal walks. They also celebrated: “We had a ceilidh [kaylee]… a traditional Scottish dance, and it requires contact dancing.” In general, Brian said, “we were able to sit next to each other and enjoy each other’s company in a very relaxed fashion. It felt like that was a huge privilege, compared to the rest of the world.”

Despite their relative freedom, it’s been hard for Antarctic residents to spend this year away from their communities and home countries. Traub’s grandfather died from the virus in April 2020. “His was one of the first recorded thousand deaths in California, so it hit my family very hard,” she said. Traub graduated from college a few months later, and had to move back in with her parents when she lost a part-time job at a local brewery before leaving for Antarctica. Her brother has been on the front lines of the pandemic as a first responder, and her parents tested positive in December.

“With the pandemic, political atmosphere, protests, and natural disasters, at times it felt like the rest of the world was falling apart,” said Heard. “I felt far more distant than normal, almost like I was on another planet.”

While the pandemic didn’t interfere with most of Williams’ team’s experience on the continent, Australian station residents also watched their families suffer from afar. “We had to be relatively helpless onlookers as our loved ones struggled to cope with their new reality and the unknowns related to the pandemic,” said Williams. “We could offer moral support, but in reality we had no context, no sense of the realities, and didn’t have to live the day-to-day in a pandemic world. This weighed heavily on us and on our loved ones.”

“You really have to lean on your ‘ice family’ down here for support because there is nothing you can do about it—you’re stuck,” Smith said.

“It’s very, very difficult to be lonely in Antarctica. And, yes we’re isolated from the rest of the world, but we’re part of a community that’s very tight, and everybody knows everybody else,” added Brian.

Stations all over the continent also have strict procedures for visitors or new employees. For U.S. stations, Traub received three COVID tests, and spent a month in quarantine on her way to the continent, staying in a New Zealand government-managed facility along the way. Upon arrival at McMurdo Station, everyone had a daily temperature and wellness check for the first week. Then, freedom. “In my experience, the United States Antarctic Program and its participants have taken COVID precautions way more seriously than people and places back home,” said Smith. “Even after all the isolation we go through to get here, a flight arriving on station during the summer would trigger a ‘condition yellow,’ meaning assigned meal groups, mask wearing, limited capacities, canceled events, and social distancing. Everyone here abides by the rules and doesn’t argue about having to wear a mask.” These stringent policies have worked: None of the American research stations in Antarctica have had any COVID-19 cases. “Sometimes it feels like I’m getting the better end of the deal by being here instead of back in the States,” Traub added.

The Australian Antarctic Program has required similar checkpoints and quarantines. They also canceled intracontinental flights between stations, and mapped out their emergency responses should a crisis arise. “It was a mammoth, but essential, effort,” said Williams.

Mawson station under the Aurora Australis

Though human activity has slowed in Antarctica over the last year, the continent itself has continued to change. Last year, the continent broke its warmest temperature ever recorded, at 65 degrees. The ice has continued to melt: This April, scientists warned that the Thwaites Glacier, the widest glacier on the planet, which is currently about the size of Great Britain, is at risk of collapse. New research has found that the melting of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet would impact the entire world, raising sea levels by three feet.

A warming planet was not the only external pressure on Antarctica this past year; diplomatic posturing and resource grabs have continued to threaten the continent as well. In terms of the pandemic’s physical impact, the coronavirus did eventually make it to Antarctica: Chile’s General Bernardo O’Higgins Riquelme research station reported dozens of cases in December 2020, marking the virus’s spread to all continents. Australia is currently moving forward with plans to build an airport runway in East Antarctica that scientists say will increase human impact on the continent by 40 percent. As the pandemic was silently spreading in January 2020, a New Zealand Navy aircraft spotted a Russian ship fishing in a protected area in Antarctica; the controversy has lasted over a year as Russia has denied the claim.

This isn’t the first time Russia’s resource extraction in Antarctica has drawn consternation, however, and this illegal fishing occurred at a time of intense scrutiny for the industry: Fishing in Antarctic waters is one of the sharpest points of contention on the continent. At the intersection of diplomacy and conservation, some countries have accused China and Russia of exploiting continental resources for economic gain, or even taking advantage of the lack of oversight from this past year. China is currently building the world’s largest krill-fishing boat and has recently blocked a proposal to restrict fishing in Antarctica’s Pine Island Glacier region, even though krill fishing is detrimental to the continent’s ecosystem. Russia hopes to double its revenue from seafood exports in part by producing and selling canned krill from Antarctica. Some academics have warned that fishing may be a preview of the future of rights to mining, which is currently prohibited by the Antarctic Treaty.

Antarctica is unique in that it is governed by a treaty system, which is run collectively by 29 countries known as “consultative parties.” Almost every decision made on the continent and in the surrounding waters requires a consensus. So, each year, these countries get together at various weeklong conferences to discuss, debate, negotiate, and hammer out settlements regarding issues like fishing, governance, environmental protections, ongoing and new projects, and more. The pandemic threw a wrench in this tradition, and has since left various proposals and projects in limbo, as research stations have halted visits to one another and international meetings have been postponed or held virtually.

In many ways, virtual diplomacy is discordant with the continent’s traditional governing style. Face-to-face contact can be really important when coming to an agreement on divisive topics, said Klaus Dodds, a geopolitics professor at Royal Holloway, University of London: “It’s easier to be obstructive in online environments… because you don’t have to look the person in the eye down the corridor, or go to a reception and be confronted about why you’re being so awkward.” At in-person meetings, Dodds said, “a lot of diplomacy unsurprisingly is about the corridor talk,” from smoke breaks to random encounters.

Different participants in continental stewardship—the scientists and Antarctic workers, academics, and international leaders—have also become increasingly separate from one another over the past year. “What you have seen in the Antarctic over the last decade is an increasing kind of siloization of relationships,” said Hemmings. “The pandemic shutdown resonates throughout the system, not just the formal points of engagement at diplomatic meetings, but all the processes beforehand, [like] the capacity to pick up domestic thinking from your science community.”

Kevin Hughes, a vice chair of the Committee for Environmental Protection (CEP), is helping plan CEP’s annual meeting this June, the first one in over a year. Originally scheduled to be in Paris, the meeting was recently moved online. There will be a lot to cover, as Hughes said that many of the environmental proposals and studies have been delayed “because the logistical difficulties were insurmountable.”

In October, the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR), which oversees fishing, boating, and marine protection in the Southern Ocean, held their annual conference virtually. Though it was a feat that the meeting even occurred, some attendees were dissatisfied with the limited agenda and the lack of movement on certain issues such as climate change and marine protected areas. The online meeting, said Birgit Njåstad, the head chair of the CEP, was “not a discussion-friendly environment.” This had real-life impacts. Multiple proposed environmentally protected areas in Antarctica were ready to be reviewed and approved last year by CCAMLR, a part of the Antarctic treaty system, but partially because of the pandemic, protection has been stalled.

Still, the CEP planners recognize that in-person meetings wouldn’t solve everything. And at their upcoming meeting, in addition to the logistical difficulties, like broadband connection, translation issues, and competing time zones, Hughes is prepared to be disappointed with the amount that they get done. “I think we just appreciate that we’re going to have to take a hit on this, and the real hope is that we can meet in Germany, in 2022, in an in-person meeting to really just crack on with a lot of the work.”

The actual Antarctic research has been strained as well. In light of the pandemic, countries like the UK and the United States scaled back their Antarctic programs and research. “The scale of the Antarctic activities are not going to be quite as much as they would normally be,” added Hughes. While the U.S. and UK lead research on the Thwaites Glacier, which maps climate change’s impact on both the melting ice and the planet, Hughes said that the collaboration during the pandemic “has basically come to a halt.”

“What we really did was sort of a maintenance season,” said Brian, who is on the UK side of the ice sheet work. “We were able to do the minimum that we needed to do there, but there’s no doubt about it that scientific program[s] will have taken a hit.”

And the Antarctic community itself is struggling: Daniela Liggett, an associate professor at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand, sent a survey to more than 400 Antarctic researchers late last year asking about the consequences of the pandemic on their work, family, and mental health. Overall, like others around the world, researchers expressed that their productivity decreased and their anxiety increased. But in her forthcoming paper for the Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research, Liggett found that early-career researchers, and specifically women, have been the most adversely affected, with some already looking to leave the field altogether. “Early-career researchers just didn’t seem to see prospects and research in the future and then getting a job and completing their degree,” said Liggett. Soon enough, “we might be experiencing a bottleneck of people retiring, but not enough young researchers filling in, following the footsteps, because of COVID, and because of funding cuts.”

Now, as parts of the world have slowly begun to vaccinate citizens and lift restrictions, station workers who are still on the continent are feeling that separation. “It’s a piece of history I am missing out on: The slow progress of the world opening up,” said Traub. “Seeing restaurants reopen, catching up with friends and family I haven’t seen in person in months… But at the same time, I know it will be there for me when I come home at the end of 2021. And though it’s a pivotal moment in history, it’s still a stressful one—a feeling I’m skipping out on altogether.” One of the first things on Traub’s list when she gets home: getting vaccinated. “It’s been heartwarming to see the numbers of American adults taking the vaccine,” she said. “I’m hopeful that when I come home things will be somewhat normal.”

“Normal” for Antarctica—meaning pre-pandemic activity—is still a ways away. In the summer season before the pandemic, more than 74,000 tourists traveled to Antarctica. During the 2020 and 2021 seasons, only a handful have visited. It’s still unclear whether this “year-off” for the pandemic will really have any positive environmental effect on the continent, Hughes said, as the land is slow to recover. To researchers and scholars that study it, diplomats that govern it, and the land itself, a post-pandemic Antarctica looks hazy. “The question really is, given that online diplomacy is likely to continue again for this year,” asked Dodds, “what are the Antarctic Treaty parties thinking about in terms of innovation, to try and improve upon the experience of last year?”

Williams, who returned to a low case count in Australia, is experiencing the pandemic, and residuals of the pandemic, for the first time. “At the tail end of our expeditions, when things were finally ready for us to come home, we had to go from zero to one hundred in a blink of an eye. We basically had to come back to a world completely changed, and on edge. Social distancing, masks, processes while shopping, limitations on movement, government tracking of our movement, social expectations on contact and intimacy.”

Some of Brian’s colleagues were even reluctant to leave the continent. “You can’t hide from the rest of the world, but people weren’t relishing going back to the COVID world,” added Brian. “It was striking to come back.”

“I can genuinely say I felt almost like an alien arriving on a new planet,” said Williams.

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How the Pandemic Changed Antarctica syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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