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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #237: Meltdowns and Mayhem

November, 1983

Pandemonium at Project Pegasus!

Oo, that might have been a better title! It’s just fun to say! Meltdowns and Mayhem is good too. And mayhem and pandemonium really does describe the cover.

Its one of those big mishmash fight covers. Just a big confusing scrum. And Wasp yelling at She-Hulk for some reason. Yeah, I dunno.

Hey, Spider-Man is still pretty front and center so this is still the Spider-Man Guest Stars, starring the Avengers book.

Oh, and the cool new logo is still here so I guess its the new thing. Rad.

Last time on Avengers: Spider-Man decided he was going to join the Avengers because money. He stowed away when the Avengers were called to an emergency situation at Project Pegasus, which turned out to be lava men. Captain Marvel’s presence accidentally released Nova villain Blackout who freed Moonstone. On her say so, he also freed Rhino and Electro. Captain Marvel also managed to resolve the lava men situation since they for some reason worship her as the prophesied savior the Lady-of-Light.

Avengers lead interesting lives.

This time on Avengers:

Captain Marvel tells the lava men to go home.

And they do.

Spider-Man grouses that he gets no respect from lava men. I’m not sure why he was expecting any?

Cap(tain America) has been briefing Plain Michael O’Brien - the once (and future? when he stops sulking?) Guardsman - on the situation re: the lava men invasion being a big misunderstanding.

Project Pegasus accidentally sent a magma tap right into the lava men village. Common mistake, could have happened to anyone. But O’Brien promises the magma tap will be moved.

Elsewhere in the facility, Moonstone’s quirky quartet watch Cap, O’Brien, and the lava men make peace. With different reactions.

Rhino doesn’t think its a big deal because he wants to pound ‘em. Electro is more hesitant because the Avengers outnumber them as is AND have Spider-Man and Spider-Man pretty consistently kicks his and Rhino’s asses.

Rhino still doesn’t care.

But if Electro doesn’t want to do the superhero fight then he can guard the rear and keep an eye on Blackout who Rhino doesn’t trust anymore than he would Spider-Man.

Because since Blackout is so new a villain (only previous appearance an issue of Nova), Rhino hasn’t heard of him. AND ISN’T IT CONVENIENT THAT A VILLAIN HE’S NEVER HEARD OF RELEASED HIM FROM HIS CELL SAME DAY THE AVENGERS SHOWED UP?

Pretty suspicious.

Blackout is hyperbolic and has a persecution complex even by the standards of supervillains.

Blackout: “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!! You’re just like all the rest! You’re against me... All of you!”

He uses his vague powers to encase Rhino in “solid black-light” and then waxes melodramatic.

I mean look at this shit.

Electro’s reaction to this in-fighting is more on the lines of scoffing at all this nonsense comic book science compared to his super cool normal electricity powers.

Electro: “Solid light? Black-star power? Moonstone, what’s he talking about? Anyone who’s had even a grade-school science education knows that he’s spouting gibberish! Black-light is just ultraviolet...”

Moonstone: “... And what he controls is much more. Yes, I know... But I don’t think that he fully knows.”

Wow. Co-villains be snarkin’.

Also, while Blackout continues monologuing about how anyone that stands against him will be merged with the light spectrum (???), Rhino just breaks out of the solid black-light, grabs Blackout, and goes to bounce Blackout against the wall until he blacks out.

But Moonstone and Electro separate the idiots and reminds them that they should be more mad at the Project Pegasus scientists who imprisoned them.

AND MOONSTONE HAS A PLAN, of course.

Back two levels down where the lava men plot is still wrapping up.

The lava men have gathered around the magma pit with the lead lava men chanting for the powers of earth to carry them home if they could kthx.

Spectating Spider-Man: This is screwy! He just keeps chanting and waving his arms over the trashed opening to the old magma pit, like he was some second-rate Dr. Strange! What’s he think he’s going to accomplish?

And then the earth blasts magma up from the pit and whisks the the lava men away home to Spider-Man’s great incredulity.

I mean, sure, the Avengers’ lives are weird but is this really weirder than your own life, Spidey?

Just a few years before this comic, Amazing Spider-Man #2 had to be retconned so you wouldn’t have dealt with aliens in only your second issue. Your life is weird!

Anyway, since the lava men are gone, Wasp decides its time to rip Spider-Man a new one for stowing away and interfering with Avengers’ business.

Spider-Man: “I’m sorry, Wasp. I...”

Wasp: “Sorry?! Is that all you can say for yourself? Well, I should hope you’re sorry! You might have sacrificed our entire mission!”

Spider-Man: I really blew it this time! “I only meant to help, Wasp. I just wanted to show you that I’d make a good Avengers... But I guess you’d never consider me for membership now, huh?”

Wasp: “I didn’t say that! If you promise not to ever do anything this rash again, we’ll see what we can do about making you an Avengers-in-training!”

(Good to see Wasp got over her inexplicable ‘ew spiders are gross’ phase from the 60s)

Much excitement until Spider-Man remembers that he didn’t want to be an in-training and protests what would he even need training for?

Captain America: “Well, for one thing, to learn how to follow orders!”

Hah!

Its like a criticism sandwich. ‘You almost fucked everything up!’ ‘But we still want you to join us.’ ‘But you need to learn teamwork dammit!’

I’ll give Spidey credit, after I was a bit rude last time, that he has learned to take criticism between the time in Amazing #1 and now. He didn’t immediately jump out a window rather than face embarrassment at fucking up. Part of that is probably that he’s underground in a government facility and there’s no good place to run away but still, some of it has to be growth.

Scarlet Witch backs Cap up that all the Avengers had to learn how to work together as a unit.

Wasp and Cap also mention that if he becomes an Avenger, he can keep his private life private but no secret superpowers. The Avengers need to know what each other can do in a pinch.

This is news to Starfox who begins musing about his own SECRET SUPERPOWER (which I’m pretty sure I’ve spilled the beans on repeatedly already). Since there hasn’t been a situation where his SECRET POWER would have been useful, he just hasn’t mentioned it but not wonders whether he should just tell the other Avengers or maybe lean into the omission and keep not mentioning it forever.

I feel option 2 isn’t a great idea but, hey, you do you spaceman.

Anyway, Spider-Man agrees that telling them about his cool powers is a fair trade for becoming an Avenger. And seriously, he’s prone to explain his powers at the drop of a hat anyway so this is no kind of huge task.

Wasp decides that they should return to the mansion so they can get this wrapped up and O’Brien shows the Avengers the cool and not at all dangerous vortex beam transport tube.

The vortex beam propels the passengers up and is apparently susceptible to irony. Because as soon as Spider-Man asks what would happen if the power went out, the beam fails and the Avengers start plummeting twenty stories.

Thankfully, Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Starfox can fly and Spider-Man catches the rest in a web net after catching himself against the wall of the tube.

Maybe stick to elevators and stairs, Project Pegasus.

But O’Brien protests that there are hundreds of failsafes and automatic safety systems that would have had to fail for them to plummet even if the vortex beam lost power.

This was SABOTAGE.

On Wasp’s order, She-Hulk punches them an egress into the side of the tube.

O’Brien gets over to a security monitor and discovers the breakout. The guy on the other end of the monitor informs him that the four escaped prisoners are on their way to the nuclear research dome.

Wouldn’t you know it! The Avengers just left and now they have to head back.

They find that the doors to the dome have been melted and Starfox and She-Hulk have to KRA-THOOM them open to pieces.

Spider-Man: Geez, next to those two, I feel like a 98-pound weakling!

Unfortunately, its one impediment after another. Past the doors into the dome, there’s a big black wall that’s not supposed to be there.

Spider-Man tries climbing it but slides right down, to his bafflement.

Spider-Man: “I can climb a wall of teflon if I have to! What’s this thing made of?”

She-Hulk tries punching it and finds that it breaks just fine but when she BAMs a hole in it, Electro zaps her with electricity through it. And the hole seals up when Spider-Man tries to web Electro.

Moonstone starts broadcasting through a monitor so she can gloat that her boys and her have taken over the nuclear research dome which means they’re in control of the whole project and the Avengers (plus Spider-Man) can’t do a thing to stop them.

And as a pretty vehement gtfo, Electro juices up with a backpack connected to the dome’s nuclear generator and electrifies the black wall.

So now the Avengers can’t even try to punch through.

Wasp: “Dangerous or not, we still have to get through and stop this madness! That wall has to come down... and you’re the one best equipped to handle that -- Wanda!”

And her probability borking powers are, as ever, a good do anything button.

Its not very probable for Blackout’s barrier to break down but it does! And its not probable for the electricity on the barrier to discharge into Electro but wouldn’t you know it, Wanda waved her hands a certain way and its happening!

Supervillains hate her. Her one weird trick for doing heroics.

But with the barrier down, Rhino charges the Avengers (plus Spider-Man), bowling over Starfox who was probably momentarily baffled to see a man dressed as a rhino charging him.

Captain Marvel dodges Rhino in her light form only to be immediately captured in a bubble by Blackout.

Alas, she had such a good showing this issue. I guess Stern decided that some other people needed time to look cool.

Spider-Man jumps on Rhino while he bowls through the Avengers and Starfox punches Blackout in the head for capturing Monica.

Blackout: “You think you can intimidate me just because you can fly?! Well, you’re wrong! Wrong! Blackout can also defy gravity!”

Starfox: “A challenge! Marvelous!”

Blackout sure is something. Like I said, even for a supervillain, he sure is something.

But its funny how Blackout and Starfox are on completely different wavelengths.

Electro recovers from getting Wanda’d and goes to fry Spider-Man but Cap(tain America) throws his mighty shield and severs the cord giving him extra juice.

Spider-Man, webbing the cord so its not a hazard: “Thanks for the quick save, Cappy!”

Captain America: “Don’t mention it, son! That’s just teamwork in action!”

It’s a teachable moment. Cap-style.

Electro tries to fry Cap for interfering but Cap’s mighty shield blocks... the... electricity. Okay, its metal though. Where is the charge going??

Scarlet Witch comes to ruin Electro’s day twice-over and waves her do-anything hands at him.

He scoffs that nothing happened and then immediately passes out.

Cap: “Wanda? What the blazes did you do to him?”

Scarlet Witch: “Basically, I tried to make all the carbon dioxide in the room cluster around his head, so he’d pass out from temporary lack of oxygen. Looks like it worked!”

Cap: “Uh... yes!”

Cap’s thinking ‘damn Wanda, you’re scary.’

The thing about do-anything powers like Wanda’s is that she really should be able to shut down most opponents like this but she probably won’t do this very often because it would be boring.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man blindfolds Rhino with webbing and lets him ram through a wall.

Rhino: “A few inches of steel don’t mean anything to me!”

She-Hulk: “Is that so? Well, how about a few knuckles of She-Hulk? Does that mean anything? Hmmph! I guess it does!”

I mean, you didn’t have to phrase it that way but good job, She-Hulk! You punched him in his rhino face.

And it was more good teamwork from Spidey. He set ‘em up, She-Hulk knocked ‘im down.

Also meanwhile, Captain Marvel is fed up with not being able to escape Blackout’s globe. And, hey, nice touch, from the outside we can see that the globe is wholly opaque so yes, it would be impenetrable to the visible light spectrum.

And no matter what energy she tries, she can’t get out. But she does a force-blast and that does bust the globe.

Whiiiiich distracts Starfox as he chases Blackout around the room and Blackout takes advantage of the distraction to blast Starfox.

Captain Marvel: “You devil! I’ll get you for that!”

Blackout: “Get me? Yes, you all try -- don’t you? You’re all out to get me!”

In this situation? Yes they are! Ya goof.

In the control room, Moonstone knows that Rhino, Electro, and Blackout don’t stand a chance to beat the Avengers but all she needs is for them to be a distraction while she uses the controls.

Wasp flies in but too late. Moonstone blasts not Wasp but the control panel.

Her plan all along was to destroy Project Pegasus for daring to study her powers like she was some kind of lab rat. And with the controls destroyed, she’s confidant that the Avengers won’t be able to stop what she started.

She blinds Wasp by doing a taiyoken with her chest and then flees out the evacuation exit, gloating that Project Pegasus is about to get very unpleasant.

What a goof.

Blackout also takes the opportunity to escape, sealing the exit behind him with one of his black light constructs.

Captain Marvel starts to blast through but Wasp tells her that there’s no time to chase supervillains right now, the reactor is going critical.

Spider-Man: “Critical? Is someone being critical again?”

Wasp: “This is no joking matter, Spider-Man! Moonstone’s left the reactor in an awful state!”

Spidey seriouses up immediately and goes to take a look, commenting that he has a little scientific training.

Oh, hey, another great reason to have Spider-Man join the team. He can be the new science guy and Starfox can get back to being the flirt. Everyone would be happier then.

And then Spidey even more seriouses up.

Spider-Man: “Moonie pulled all of the damping rods out of the power core! If we can’t get them back in place, we’ll have a meltdown that’ll leave the entire project uninhabitable for the new hundred-thousand years!”

Geez, Moonstone! You don’t half-ass revenge!

Moonstone broke the controls so they can’t just plunk the damping rods back into place. Wanda’s do-anything powers could do it, if she wanted to melt before she could do it.

Apparently her powers are reliant on direct line-of-sight (even though that doesn’t gel with when she fought the Wizard recently) but the radiation levels are so high in the reactor that she doubts even She-Hulk would survive it.

But Captain Marvel could.

Radiation wouldn’t affect her energy forms and she can get into the reactor through the circuity in the control room.

Spider-Man gets on a microphone and tries to walk Captain Monica through what she needs to do.

She needs to cut through all five supports on the damping rod assembly. If the assembly doesn’t fall as a unit, NUCLEAR DISASTER.

Captain Marvel zips about as a laser, I guess, cutting through the supports. One isn’t cut through all the way through, giving Spider-Man a startle, but Monica zips about lightspeed and finishes cutting through, allowing the assembly to fall into place with a WHUNK.

Spider-Man: “The reactor’s shutting down. Uh.. Can someone help me get my heart restarted?”

Ha, I like Cap(tain America)’s ‘whew’ gesture.

Y’know, the selling point of this arc seems to be ‘HEY LOOK SPIDER-MAN IS HERE’ but its been more of a Captain Marvel focused story. She resolves the lava man situation and she has a ‘this looks like a job for Aquaman’ moment with the reactor too.

Still, Spidey pulled his weight. He c-c-c-combo’d Rhino with She-Hulk. His spider-sense came in handy. And he got to be a science guy since Starfox was knocked out.

I tend to be iffy on Spider-Man as an Avenger overall but heck, lets have him on the team!

Later, after Spider-Man’s heart gets restarted and everyone has returned to the Mansion, Cap and Wasp call the Government (specifically their liaison Mr. Sikorski who doesn’t want to be here and hates dealing with superheroes. Its frankly amazing that Gyrich’s understudy is a worse Avengers liaison than him) to request clearance for Spider-Man to become a new trainee Avenger.

And over slightly to the left, presumably off-camera from the call Wasp and Cap are having, Spider-Man ponders whether this is actually something he wants.

He still doesn’t like the idea of being treated as a rookie. He’s been superheroing since he was in high school and darnit, he’s dropped out of grad school by this point! And he doesn’t know whether he’s a good fit for a team at all.

But on the other hand, he’s got a thousand good reasons (a week) to join. I’m sorry, I typed reasons, I meant dollars.

But what Spider-Man does and does not want becomes a bit moot as Mr. Sikorski shoots the idea down flat.

Mr. Sikorski: “Spider-Man?! Are you out of your minds? We have a file on him that’s a yard long -- and it still doesn’t tell us a blasted thing about him! The man’s a major security risk! No! I absolutely forbid it!”

God. He even wags his finger at Cap and Wasp.

The nerve.

The unmitigated gall.

Spider-Man takes this with all due sour grapes.

Spider-Man: “They’ll okay, Starfox -- a guy from outer space -- but my own government won’t approve me?”

Yeah, that’s a good point!

Cap offers to go over Mr. Sikorski’s head by going right to the president (which in FAIRNESS is kinda how Starfox got on the team) but Spider-Man tells Cap not to bother.

I’d guess a combination of bruised pride and ‘oh thank god now I don’t have to make a decision, I just get to be indignant about it.’

Spider-Man: “Naw, don’t put yourself out, Cap! Me joining the Avengers was a dumb idea anyway! But I’ll tell you one thing... my Congressman is definitely gonna hear about this!”

Sad Starfox with an icepack on his head: “Congressman? What on Earth is a Congressman?”

Hah.

Also, the tiny next issue box promises UNLIMITED VISION which is definitely not ominous at alllll.

So! Not a bad two-parter by any means! It is a shame that Spider-Man can’t join the Avengers, because of the government and probably writers and editorial, he has a fun dynamic with the team.

But in these times where Marvel tried to keep things consistent in the shared universe, a big guy with his own book like Spider-Man would be difficult. I mean, they’ve only recently written out Thor and Iron Man for having troubles in their own books and Spider-Man is constantly having trouble in his book.

Your time will come eventually, Spidey.

Follow @essential-avengers because maybe one day I’ll get to the point where Spider-Man is a reserve member. Also like and reblog because I like to feel liked.

#avengers #Moonstone #Rhino #Electro #Blackout #Spider Man #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Scarlet Witch #the Wasp #She Hulk #Captain America #Starfox #Essential Avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #so monica became the chosen one of lava people and stopped a nuclear meltdown in one day #that's a productive day #Spider Man wasn't MVP but he did a good job #Starfox doesn't know how democracy works

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adolanables · 4 years

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Desire - Part 1 (G.D.)

A/N: Trigger warning for basically this entire story - my best friend just came back from 2 years in Amsterdam and had an experience with this line of work. She inspired me to write about this, but I’m not claiming to be an expert and I’m sure I will make some mistakes here and there.

Summary: Y/N has worked in the industry for over a year; her weekends all looked the same - old men, money, lingerie. Over and over again. She was never expecting to have a connection with anyone ever again. She had accepted the reality of her situation. One night, Grayson Dolan changed her mind.

PART 1

The car ride to the familiar Vegas hotel felt entirely too short as your driver glanced back at you, raising his eyebrows to signify you needed to get out now. The three other girls in the car were sliding out as you finally came to your senses, shaking your head slightly to bring you back to reality. As your tall heels connected with the pavement and you wrapped your coat around you tightly, you couldn’t help but wish you were back in your apartment watching Netflix.

“Y/N, hurry up.” Skylar whipped her blonde head around to glare at you, her brows furrowed as she noticed you falling behind the rest of the girls. “In and out; remember?” She snarled as you picked up your pace to fall in line.

The four of you quickly strutted past hotel security, the tall man raising his eyebrow in amusement as you all shuffled into the elevator and pressed the close button quickly. Once the doors were shut, you all relaxed slightly. Getting into this hotel was usually easy, but others often gave you grief. Sometimes it was management, other times it was the other guests.

“Room 1733, right?” Skylar spoke softly to Bethany who stood next to her, a few inches shorter. Bethany simply nodded as the elevator opened and you all headed down the hallway to find the appropriate room. As you all assembled in front of the door, Skylar spoke up - “Everyone unlace jackets on 2, I’m knocking on 3.” She moved her hands to the tight knot around her waist and took in a deep breath. “1….2….3.” Her knuckles rapped on the door quickly and all of you opened up your matching black jackets.

“Hello ladies.” A man with an unbuttoned white dress shirt flung the door open - his hair was disheveled and the stench of alcohol and sweat poured out of the room. He was clearly eyeing all of you from head to toe before even considering letting you in - something that drove you nuts. This man called for “serious” entertainment for a bachelor party and was seriously going to be picky; jeopardizing your safety with how long he was making you all stand in the hallway.

“Wanna let us in?” Skylar smiled sweetly, her large blue eyes clearly capturing the attention of this very drunk man. He took a step back and nodded, motioning for all of you to come inside.

You took a second to look around the suite - you didn’t think you’d been in this room before. There were couches centered in the middle of the room, all surrounding a glass coffee table that was completely trashed with bottles of alcohol. It was only midnight, so surely this crew had decided tonight was for their “female entertainment” rather than gambling or bars. To your surprise, you didn’t see any remnants of drugs scattered on the table like you usually did at these events.

“Do we get to know your names?” The sloppy man spoke up once again, leaning against the back of one of the couches. You could hear other voices coming from the other rooms, but he was the only one paying any of you any mind.

“Skylar, Bethany, Jada, and Y/N.” Skylar spoke for all of you, her long legs carrying her over to the man as she dropped her jacket from her shoulders completely. Her black, lacy lingerie accentuated her tan skin and light hair beautifully - you were always jealous of her. She was the one all the men wanted, absolutely stunning with a beautiful body - nearly 5’10 and the size of a pencil. “We take pay upfront or we leave - mister…?”

“You can call me Dustin.” He smirked, his hand that wasn’t wrapped around a glass of liquor fell onto her bare waist. “And cash is in the envelope on the counter top - $2000 for each of you for the night, right?”

“Yep, Y/N, go check the money.” Skylar nodded at you as her arms laced around the guy’s neck. As you pranced over to the counter and flipped through the stack of 100s, you couldn’t help but smirk at the label of the envelope that read: for the bitches.

“All good.” You spoke up, leaning up against the kitchen counter as Bethany and Jada made themselves comfortable on the couches - each of them leaving their jackets next to Skylar’s. You followed suit shortly after, dropping the comforting fabric onto the ground and making sure the bright red silk of your lingerie was laying properly on your body.

“So, is it just you then - or are there others?” Skylar spoke softly into Dustin’s ear, her hands traveling up and down his back seductively.

“Others.” Another voice sounded from behind you, much deeper than Dustin’s but drunken - all the same. “Our husband-to-be is still freshening up, but wanted me to preface this by saying he doesn’t want to be touched or to do anything considered cheating.” You turned your head to glance at the man, his red-hair stood up as though he had been tugging on it for a while.

All of you chuckled and nodded - you were sure every single bachelor party you’d been to had started the same way. The man to be wed would claim he was not interested in any sort of physical touch with any of you; sometimes some of the groomsmen would say the same. After the four of you completed your initial strip tease, it was nearly impossible for any of them to resist - and at that point, they usually didn’t want to.

Not long after, the man you presumed to be the groom stumbled into the room, his hands tightly clasped around a bottle of whiskey. The “bachelor” hat on his head gave his status away. Shortly behind him was an identical man… looking even more frazzled, his hands also tightly wrapped around a bottle. It wasn’t often you actually found clients attractive. Usually, they all blurred together - their faces merging into a generic looking man. However, the - apparent - twins who sunk into the couch across from you with their sharp jaw lines and dark hair and beards were another story. They were almost god-like and you couldn’t help but to be jealous of whoever that one was marrying.

“Hello gentlemen.” Skylar grinned, gripping Dustin’s hand to guide him over to the couch where the twins were seated. “All of you please sit here.” She winked as she shoved the red-head down next to the others. “Jada - hit it.”

Skylar quickly joined the four of you on the couch, all of you assuming the starting position - legs crossed, hair draped over your shoulder, eyes trained on whoever was directly across from you. As the music started, you felt a small smile playing on your lips as the distressed - not engaged- twin tried his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. Your hands traveled up and down your body, hair whipping around your head as you seductively danced with the women around you. Honestly, you could understand how men found it so hard to resist the motives.

All of you wore matching lingerie sets in different fabrics and colors - Skylar was always in black, you were always in red, Jada was always in white to contrast her dark skin, and Bethany wore a combination of the three. All of you wore your hair long and curled, makeup done to the nines, shiny black stiletto heels on your feet. When you danced this way, you felt hot - like you could truly take anyone’s man - not that you wanted to of course.

All four of the men sat with their eyes widened and jaws slacked as the four of you simultaneously slid the bras off your bodies. You felt eyes burning into your body as you moved your hips to the music, a small smirk dawning your face as you felt Skylar’s body press against your back. You knew you weren’t the prettiest in the group, but you did know you had the best tits. This part of the routine always made you feel like a goddess; all of these men ready to worship your every move.

The routine was coming to an end as all of you lined up, each of you with hands on the other’s panties. You all pulled each other’s bottoms off, kneeling down as you did so to press a soft kiss to the skin of the other woman. Skylar was usually at the back of the line, leaving her panties on as the music closed out. She took dominant steps towards the bachelor, her lips curled up mischievously as she gripped his hands and put them on her hips, guiding him to tug her bottoms off for her. He gulped nervously as he complied, coming face to face with her perfectly waxed mound.

As she stepped out of the black underwear, the rest of you moved towards the other men - all four of you now standing completely nude in front of the men. Bethany was in front of Dustin, Jada in front of the redhead, and you were somehow blessed enough to be staring down at the god-like twin.

“What do you good boys want, hm?” Skylar teased, her hands rubbing over the bachelor’s shoulders. “All of us to take you separately, or everyone to stay here?”

“Separate.” Dustin squeaked as Bethany straddled his lap, her hands tangling in the back of his hair.

Skylar nodded at all of you and quickly gripped the bachelor’s hand, leading him away. Bethany and Jada soon followed after, both of them wandering to rooms in the suite. When all doors were shut you glanced down at the man in front of you who was a bright shade of red. “Want to stay here or do you have a roo-”

“Here is fine.” He interrupted you, his voice giving away his nervousness. You smirked at him knowingly and decided to sit down next to him instead of straddling him like you usually would have.

“Wanna tell me your name, handsome?” You grinned, sliding your hand up and down his thigh softly as you took the whiskey from him - taking a big swig for yourself. Skylar didn’t like you to drink on the job, but she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“G-Grayson.” He took in a deep breath as your hand moved farther up his leg, but stopped before you got too close. “And yours?”

“Y/N.” You smiled at him softly, squeezing his upper thigh in your hand. “Why so nervous?”

“Well, um -” He took in a shaky breath and shut his eyes tightly, you glanced down at his lap and bit your lip as you saw him steadily growing in his pants. “Hot, naked, girl I don’t know is sitting next to me - um.” He nervously scratched at the back of his head as he stared at the ground. “I don’t really know what to do.”

“How about I just take care of you, yeah?” You patted his knee reassuringly, trying to make him comfortable. This was a pretty common occurrence - usually one or two of the guys would be painfully awkward. What the four of you did went quite a bit further than the standard stripper, and usually guys weren’t prepared for all of you to be so beautiful. “We can go slow - if you don’t like something just tap my wrist three times - okay?”

“Okay,” He breathed, sinking back into the couch for a moment before taking another swig of the whiskey.

“Just - one thing.” You took the bottle back from him and took another gulp.”No kissing.”

“No kissing?” Grayson looked at you incredulously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That a problem?” You snarled, crossing your arms defensively.

“No, no!” He shook his head quickly. “I just - usually - uh - these things start with kissing. Just new - that’s all!”

“Okay, okay, relax Grayson.” You giggled, unfolding your arms to let your perky tits come back into view. You set the bottle on the crowded coffee table and leaned towards the beautiful man, your hands slowly lifting his white t-shirt off his torso. He didn’t stop you, so you kept going, unbuckling his pants and sliding those off until he was just in his boxers - his erection extremely apparent. You moved to sit on his lap, grabbing his hands to put them on your chest - a small gasp left his lips as you made him squeeze, simultaneously grinding down on his length. “That okay?”

“Mhm.” He groaned, his eyes shut tightly as you pressed kisses down his chest, slowly kneeling onto the ground. He fluttered his eyes open to see you in between his legs, hands gripping the waist band of his boxers. “Shit, you look good.” He breathed, bucking his hips up into thin air at the sight.

“So do you.” You winked at him, yanking his boxers down to reveal his full length. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly taken aback. It was so uncommon for you to have an even average sized penis in front of you. Usually these guys were severely lacking between the legs; at least forty years old; and insanely rich. This group didn’t quite fit the bill and you were genuinely curious how they had $8000 to spend on all of you. His tip was bright red and sticky sweet as precum had nearly drenched his boxers. “Can I taste?” You fluttered your lashes up at him innocently, your lip tucked between your lips. You knew all the tricks to drive a man absolutely wild, but seeing a man this hot coming to pieces at your touch also drove you crazy.

“Please.” He moaned, throwing his back against the couch as you gripped his thick member in your manicured hand. He choked back a moan as you pumped him up and down slowly, you sucked just the tip into your mouth and shut your eyes - tasting every inch of him. “Ah-ah- I’m not gonna la-” He squeaked before he came all over your chin, his face turning bright red as you looked up at him in amusement. ��Oh my god, I’m so sorry; this is so embara-”

“Shh,” You giggled, making sure to swallow every drop of cum that was on your face. “It’s okay.” You shrugged, tapping his thigh softly as you moved back up to the couch to sit next to him.

“I can’t believe I came in like 3 seconds.” He moaned, covering his face with his hands in frustration. You tried to fight your smile as he truly tried to recover for the mortifying moment. Honestly, you weren’t upset at all. The usual older clients also usually came with a healthy dose of Viagra before you got to them - which meant hours and hours of rough, unpleasant, sex. Sure, you were absolutely dripping at the thought of Grayson buried deep inside you, but you also weren’t too mad to see someone that worked up over you.

“It’s really alright.” You smiled, rubbing his back soothingly as you tucked your knees to your chest. “Makes me feel pretty hot.”

“Well, duh - you’re smoking.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at you as he pulled his boxers up to cover himself. “So… um - do you want a robe or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, furrowing your brow at him as he extended his hand to you. You took it anyways and followed him into what you assumed to be the room he was staying in. You glanced around at the standard decorations as he stepped into the closet and pulled out a fluffy white robe. As he wrapped it around your shoulders you couldn’t help but grin at the action. Sure, it was simple, but usually these men wanted you butt naked for the entire night they paid you for. They wanted to wake up at 2AM to your bare ass so they could slide themselves in between your folds, thinking it would be hot for you to wake up to a stranger inside of you.

“I’m sorry again… I know we paid you for the entire night.” He shook his head again, sinking down onto the bed. “You’re welcome to head home if you want to, you don’t have to stay with me.”

“Oh, yes I do.” You chuckled, sinking down next to him and smirking. “Skylar would have my head if i left.”

“Really?” He questioned, genuinely curious about this job of yours.

“Yeah, she’s pretty strict with us.” You shrugged, tucking your knees up to your chest again and turning to face the boy next to you. “Most… uh - women like us have some asshole man to answer to; so we are really lucky that all we have is Skylar.” You felt the confidence burst from stripping start to falter as you picked at a loose string on the robe. “But I do have to follow the rules or my ass is grass.”

“Oh, that’s… good.” He spoke cautiously, unsure of the right things to say.

“You can ask.” You muttered, still not looking at him. Every guy who started to get more interested in conversation than your body inevitably wanted to know why you of all people ended up doing this.

“I wasnt going t-”

“I know, but you want to know.” You glanced up at him with a knowing smile, he nodded softly and shrugged. “Well -” You sighed, making sure to stare right at him. “I tried college - tried really hard. But I ended up losing my scholarship being stupid and was running out of options. I was actually just dancing at a club here when I met Skylar. She was trying to get a gang together to do this classy escort thing and the money sounded promising… so … here I am.”

“How long have you been doing this?” He questioned, not wanting to press too far.

“About a year.” You smiled at him softly. “And yes, it’s pretty shitty at times, but it’s better than a lot of things I could be doing.”

“Makes sense.” He nodded at you; clearly a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, but he wasn’t going to make you feel that way too. “So, what do we do for the rest of the night?”

“Whatever you want.” You shrugged, waiting for him to suggest something, but he was at a loss. “Room service and a movie?” You suggested, laughing as his face lit up with excitement.

An entire pizza, chicken alfredo, mozzarella sticks, and two ice cream sundaes later, you and Grayson were lying face down on the large bed. It was nearly 3AM and you had heard voices in the living area not too long ago; one of the other pairings had probably had the same idea of food. You were exhausted, but you had a major rule when with a client and that was that you would never let yourself fall asleep before them.

Grayson’s eyes were hooded and red, he was obviously shot too. He let out a soft groan and buried his face deeper into the pillows before glancing over at you. “Do you want to get under the covers? I’m kinda cold.”

“Sure.” You nodded at him softly, taking a moment to relish in how good he looked half asleep. He had been so kind to you after accidentally cutting his time with you short. Although it wasn’t the most common occurrence with your clientele, they usually were pretty angry about it if it did happen. Grayson didn’t seem angry though, in fact he seemed a bit relieved that you all ended up eating pizza in bed instead of anything else.

“Stop fighting it, you can go to sleep, Y/N.” Grayson spoke softly to you, pulling the clean white sheets up over both of you. His large body was a few inches away from you, him not wanting to make you uncomfortable since he still had his shirt off.

“I will, I will.” You assured him, sinking deeper into the pillow and shutting your eyes softly as Grayson reached up to turn the lights off. It didn’t take too long until you heard soft puffs of air leaving his mouth letting you know he was finally asleep. You finally let the massive guard you had up down a bit and turned away from him, buried your head in the pillow and went to sleep.

#grayson #ethan #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #the dolan twins #dolan twins #dolan fans #dolan fandom #dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x smut #grayson dolan x reader

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thefinalcinderella · 5 years

Text

Tsurune Book 2 Chapter 6-Door (Part 1)

We’re in the endgame now...

This chapter was surprisingly dramatic. Some people get trapped in an elevator, someone gets hospitalized, and someone declares to someone else that they will make a world without hitting or missing...this chapter took a while. Hopefully, I can finish the book before September ends.

Full list of translations here

Glossary here

Translation Notes

1. Nanao lists a bunch of dishes from all over Japan. Imoni is a type of taro and meat soup eaten in the Tohoku region. Beef tongue, or gyuutan, was a dish created in Sendai. Wappameshi is a dish cooked in wooden containers and a specialty of the Niigata prefecture. Zunda mochi is a Tohoku specialty where rice cakes are coated with soy bean paste. Ika ninjin is a pickled mixture of dried squid and carrots, which is a specialty in Fukushima.

2. The bull’s eye of a hoshi-mato is called a zuboshi in Japanese. Zuboshi o sasu (to guess exactly right) literally means pointing at the bull’s eye.

3. The word used here, geki (檄), can mean encouragement as well as manifesto.

4. This was a bit confusing for me, but I think it’s connected to the idea of seven mysteries (fushigi) (a common trope in manga set in high schools) and how meeting one of them would bring you bad luck.

5. This is a reference to Shutaro Mendo, a character from the famous manga Urusei Yatsura who is the heir to a rich family and has claustrophobia.

6. “Form is emptiness” and the Heart Sutra are kind of the same thing in Buddhism. I think it means that everything is dependent on their parts and causes, and that forms themselves are inherently empty of existence???? Buddhism is complicated

Previous | Next

Anvil clouds floated distinctly against the sky.

In order to participate in the Interscholastic Athletic Meet Kyudo Tournament, Minato and the others took a connecting bullet train up north. August, over four days. The start of a hot and passionate summer for high school archers.

In the train, Minato, Seiya, and Ryouhei sat in a three-seat row, Kaito and Nanao sat in a two-seat row next to them, and Masa-san and Tommy-sensei sat behind them. So that their bows would not hinder the people around them, they had them put in the gap between the seats and the wall at the back of the car.

Ryouhei and Nanao promptly opened the seals on their bags of sweets. They proceeded to barter across the aisle.

Kaito wrinkled his brow.

"I can't believe you guys can eat so many sweets so often. Just looking at them gives me heartburn."

"Huh? When I get on a vehicle, I get kinda hungry, you know? Imoni, beef tongue, wappameshi, zunda mochi, ika ninjin! (1) Aah, what to eat?"

"Don't eat so much. Eating too much for lunch and getting sleepy, then not feeling so good in the afternoon even though you felt fine in the morning, is a thing that happens."

"Are you not eating then, Kacchan? As in, local cuisine?"

"No, I am though."

"Right?"

Nanao and Ryouhei were energetic since morning, but Minato was flipping through the provided booklet and drinking tea, unable to settle down if he wasn’t doing something.

Seiya spoke.

"Minato, it’s still too early to be nervous. We’re scheduled to shoot at the practice hall today first, after all. Apparently, we can do a practice round of four shots at the actual venue."

"When we got on the train, I just thought, it's finally time."

"I'm excited. To be able to shoot on such a big stage is like a dream. We've done all that we can, so the rest is just managing our health over these four days, I guess."

"Yeah, that's right."

Minato leaned back deeply into his seat and closed his eyes.

They entered the first day.

Shajos for groups of ten people appeared in a wide arena that was used for championship ball game matches and other events. The green mat that resembled the lawn of a yamichi dazzled the eyes. The stands were filled in all directions, and there were many camera lenses pointed at the competitors for web broadcasts and photos. Unlike the semi-open-air kyudojos, sounds echoed, so if one shouted a yagoe, it seemed like it would rebound and pierce one’s own heart.

The competition event was short-distance shooting, divided into girls’ and boys’ divisions, and the categories were group competitions and individual competitions. The targets used were wooden-framed kasumi-mato with a diameter of thirty-six centimeters. Two shajos for groups of ten, the space between the archers were a hundred and eighty centimeters, and the shooting distance was twenty-eight meters.

Following the opening ceremony, the girls’ individual competition began. The preliminaries and semifinals would have four rounds of shooting, and those who had three or more hits would advance. The preliminaries were done in rissha, and from the semifinals on, the matches would be done in zasha.

Kazemai High School was only in the group tournament, but Kirisaki High School’s Shuu was in the boys’ individual competition. His presence that surpassed others could not fade under any circumstances. Even in the most crowded places, one could quickly find Shuu.

Ryouhei spoke to Minato.

"Shuu-kun's as cool as ever. You'd know that he's definitely skilled just from seeing his standing figure."

"Yeah, exactly."

Shuu and Nikaidou both had a four-shot kaichuu, and passed the preliminaries and semifinals.

The individual competition finals were an "izume" competition. The current tournament had twenty-seven competitors.

Each person shot an arrow, the ones who missed were eliminated, and those who hit carried out their next shot. The one who continued to hit to the end was the winner. However, in the event that everyone missed, they can shoot once more.

Shuu and Nikaidou smoothly continued to hit, and from the fifth round, their targets were switched to twenty-four centimeters hoshi-mato. Hoshi-mato were targets with a single black circle in the middle of a white background, and that black circle was called the "zuboshi" which was the origin of the phrase used often in everyday life, "zuboshi o sasu" (to guess exactly right). (2)

In the sixth round, five people, including Shuu and Nikaidou, were left.

In the seventh round, one person was out, and after the eighth round, it became a one-on-one battle between Shuu and Nikaidou.

Nine shots, then ten.

In the midst of the enormous round of applause, the archer who kept hitting until the end slowly blinked his pale, thinly pigmented eyelashes.

The second day. The start of the group tournaments.

Teams were composed of one manager and six athletes, with five starting members. Up to three athlete substitutions were allowed. Each team had a total of twenty shots, and the top thirty-two teams with the most amount of hits would advance. The time limits were eight minutes for zasha and seven minutes for rissha. In the case of competitions that determine which team would advance past the preliminaries due to a tie, each person would shoot one arrow.

Minato’s team hung their ID cards from their necks, attached their numbers to their right hips, and put on their yellow-green headbands. The girls’ division took place in the morning, and the boys’ division would take place in the afternoon. Their parents, the girl members, and the elite members of the Nanao Fan Club, rushed to support them over a long and distant journey. The stands were divided into blocks of average people and competitors, and female staff members were patrolling around with plates that read "Please stay quiet during the competition.”

While waiting for their turn, the Kirisaki archers appeared before Minato. He readied himself to exchange sharp words with the twins, but their treatments of him were different.

Manji opened his mouth.

"I heard that the suggestion for me to shoot together with Shuu while standing behind him came from you and that coach of yours."

"Are you saying that I did something uncalled for?"

"Teams from the same prefecture would be separated into different blocks for the finals tournament. We’ll be waiting for you guys in the finals."

"Oh, yeah, wait for us," Minato answered.

Senichi and Manji stepped back, and then Shuu stepped forward between the two. His silhouette was bordered in gold, and it seemed like there was a blue-purple flame swaying upwards.

Shuu smiled brilliantly.

"Hey, Minato. I owe you for the other day."

"Congrats on winning the individual competition, Shuu. Your shooting was kinda like Saionji-sensei's."

"Fufu… Are you planning on pleasing me and make me turn into a fool? I will embody 'one shot and expire’ at this tournament."

"…One shot and expire?"

"That's right. A world where, other than drawing a bow and releasing an arrow, there are no such things as hitting and missing——. Minato, you follow me too."

Only informing Minato of that, Shuu left without waiting for a response.

What’s with Shuu?

Did he meant to do a Zen dialogue kind of thing here? I couldn’t even raise a question, much less answer him.

Tommy-sensei and Masa-san stood before the five boys.

"Thank you all for continuing to practice up to now. I have received all of your tenacity, for certain. Now, let’s start the mission!"

"Yes!"

Minato and others entered the third waiting room. When they were there, they felt like warriors taking on a battle. Beyond the partitioning white cloth was the shajo, and the moment one came out there, the immoveable enemy would be right before one's eyes.

They advanced to the second waiting room, and when they entered the shajo, they sat down in the chairs of the first waiting room.

At the signal to "start," they did their yuu bows and stepped forward to the shooting line, then they did ashibumi without squatting. They selected a pair of arrows from four.

First was to shoot was the oomae, Kaito. He carefully brought the tip of his arrow closer to the center of the target, and waited for the moment of release. After his arrow headed for the target along with a nimble yugaeri, there were shouts of "Alright!"

When Kaito was entering kai, the second archer, Ryouhei, raised his bow. His recent progress was amazing. He was so honest and straightforward that he absorbed what he learned as he was taught them. A lively matooto sounded.

The third archer, Seiya, was unusually relaxed. At the prefectural tournament, he was a bundle of nerves with a prim face on, but this time, the unity of the five was excellent, and he felt like they could win the championship like this. Of course, he hit.

It was then the fourth archer’s—Nanao’s—turn. The group with the yellow-green frog-shaped uchiwa fans in their hands pitched forward. While being aware of his tenouchi, Nanao carefully drew his bow. A circle appeared on the scoreboard, and the Nanao Fan Club elites sent out a big shout of support.

The fifth archer, the ochi, was Minato. The pain in his wrist was completely gone. He tensed his little finger, stretched his elbow, and stretched himself in all directions as much as possible. His arrow shot through the target with a ringing tsurune.

The five-person kaichuu was clinched, and a huge round of applause swelled from the venue. In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo were doing fist pumps in their minds.

"They did it! The boys were incredible from the very beginning."

"So you've been enlightened or something?"

"Maybe."

In the second round, the five got a kaichuu once again, and the Kazemai High School cheering squad was unexpectedly enlivened.

However, in the third round, Ryouhei, Seiya, and Nanao missed.

In the fourth round, Kaito had one more shot to go for a kaichuu, but missed and exited the shajo. Minato got a four-shot kaichuu and there was a round of applause.

As a result, Kazemai High School had three, three, three, three, four—a total of sixteen hits.

When all the teams finished shooting, the results were that Kirisaki High School and Tsujimine High School both had eighteen hits.

The three schools were in the top rankings and would advance.

The third day.

The finals tournament finally began.

This day was done in two matches, until it was whittled down to the best sixteen.

Their first match was with Iwakurisawa High School. They stood out quite a lot due to their buzz cuts and bright red headbands. When the person who appeared to be the captain commanded in a loud voice, "Form lines!", the athletes and cheering squad quickly formed five rows.

Their manager, with a similarly shaved head, issued a manifesto of encouragement. (3)

"All of you, things like losing to a school with only first-years are not needed!"

"Yes, sir."

"Too quiet!"

"Yes, sir!"

At that ferociousness that was more like something from the military than sports-oriented, the athletes from the other schools drew back a little. However, with the influence of their opponent’s manager, Minato’s team became calmer instead. They did rissha in the preliminaries, but from now on they would be doing zasha. From the stands, Masa-san watched Kazemai High School enter the first shajo and Iwakurisawa High School enter the second.

From "standing" to the end of "nocking," the five people’s movements were matching each other’s as much as possible, but Iwakurisawa was all over the place, and it could be perceived that they didn’t even feel like getting it together. And conversely, the timing to stand for the first shooting round was said to be when the person in front stood and put their right fist on their hip, but the five people from Iwakurisawa stood up together and did ashibumi together. Although it was alright as long as one didn’t overtake the movements of the person in front of them, there was a sense of discomfort felt from looking at that.

After they began shooting, shouts of "Alright!" came for both teams in succession.

Iwakurisawa used a shooting method where they moved themselves towards the targets to the extent that they were tilting their bodies. They firmly pushed their left arms and released their arrows immediately with just their right hands. It was a unique way of shooting, but they hit very well with it. But there was one person who was being put into disorder. The arrows their ochi was releasing were scattering left and right, and their landing spots were in disarray.

On the other hand, the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club showcased their composed shooting. Their raised their bows with their right arms and passed the initiative to the left arms at daisan. Rolling the targets that could be seen around their left elbows to above their arms and moving it to their fists, they then moved their right hands to their shoulders and pointed their right elbows to their hips before parting their bows. When they entered kai, they quietly exhaled. They flicked their right thumbs and their arrows rushed towards the targets.

For the results, Iwakurisawa had four, three, three, four, and one hit for a total of fifteen hits. Kazemai, opposing them, had four, two, four, three, and three hits and won with a total of sixteen hits.

After the first match was over, Tommy-sensei praised them all. No matter how old one was, words of praise from one’s teacher were something to be happy about. Next to them, the Iwakurisawa manager was yelling at their ochi.

"If you missed the first shot, then shouldn’t you change your aim for the second shot!? Why did you miss three of them!?"

"I’m sorry…"

"Why aren't you able to do what I taught you!?"

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry——!"

The ochi continued to apologize, but his manager did not stop rebuking him. The voice that was relentlessly criticizing someone who had already broken down into tears was painful for those who were listening to it as well.

When Minato took a step, he heard a loud fit of coughing.

"Kaaaaa—" Coughing sounds. "Ah, please excuse me. As one gets older, there would be more phlegm stuck in one’s throat." Another cough.

The sounds of the Iwakurisawa manager’s rebukes were drowned out by the incessant and violent coughing. Perhaps their interest was dampened, Iwakurisawa High School started to move in silence. If Minato and the others copied them, they could be adding fuel to the fire, and the people around them couldn’t close their open mouths at the feat only Tommy-sensei could do.

The second match began. Their opponent was Chikuten High School.

The Chikuten oomae was petite but the ace of his team, and was skilled enough to be in the top three of the individual competition. The other members’ standing postures were also good, and they looked quite dignified. When they stood at the shooting line, they took forward-bent postures. They raised their bows while keeping that tilt, firmly put in their shoulders and pushed open their bows. Their arrows headed towards their targets with a sharp release.

Of course, Minato’s team did not yield to them either. The five’s movements were perfectly overlapping from moving their bows to nocking, showing their amount of training. They drew their bows to the limit and waited for the moment to release their arrows.

At the end of the four rounds, Ryouhei and Nanao got kaichuu, and they got three, four, three, four, three hits for a total of seventeen hits.

At the end of the tie-breaking match, Kazemai won with four hits to three.

Minato, dressed in the casual outfit of a t-shirt and a jersey, was on the first floor of his hotel.

After the schedule for the third day was over, the manager and athletes went back to their hotel to rest their bodies. This hotel had twelve floors and was fully equipped with a large public bath, and Minato was returning to his room after having finished bathing a step before everyone else.

Tomorrow, the curtains would close on the high school generals. He wondered what kind of results would be waiting for them. If they went on winning at this rate, they would face Kirisaki High School, where Shuu was.

Drawing their bows at the same place, at the same time.

The secret, violent throbbing in his chest would not stop until the competition was over.

When Minato headed for the elevator landing, he saw someone he recognized there. It seemed like he had also just come out of the bath.

"Nikaidou-senpai."

"…Yo. I sure bump into you a lot, Minato-chan. I don’t even use the elevator normally, so this must be fate or something."

"Oh, I saw the notice on the way here. It seems that the stairs can’t be used due to a lighting failure. Nikaidou-senpai, you have a rule of not using the elevator or escalator as much as possible to train your legs, right?"

"That’s Minato-chan for ya. You even remember stuff that don’t even matter. Even though I was able to use the stairs on the way to the baths, but, well, things happen sometimes."

Staying in the same lodgings as Tsujimine High School again was unlucky. The desire to not meet each other as much as possible was probably mutual for the two of them. They waited for the elevator to come in silence, and then got in when the doors opened.

Nikaidou asked him a question.

"What floor?"

"Eighth floor, please."

"Got it."

He pressed the buttons for the seventh and eighth floors. The elevator rose with an indistinct sound.

Four, five, six…

They would finally be approaching the seventh floor soon.

Minato was at the back of the elevator, and Nikaidou stood before the doors as he was about to get off. But, the elevator stopped just a little bit before its destination.

"…The hell? The door’s not opening."

Nikaidou pressed several of the buttons, but nothing happened. Minato also tried pressing the buttons as a test, but the results were the same.

"Oi oi, is this for real…"

"Should I try pressing the call button?"

"Go ahead."

After Minato pressed the button, a voice could be heard from the speaker.

"What is the problem?"

"The elevator stopped and the doors aren’t opening."

"We are very sorry for the inconvenience. Which floor did the elevator stop near? Also, how many people are in the elevator?"

"We’re almost at the seventh floor. There are two people."

"Understood. We will now be sending people to your location, so please wait. They will arrive in about fifteen minutes."

The voice broke off.

That they were trapped in an elevator in a place like this was completely unexpected. It wasn’t like they didn’t feel like they could get out if they force the door open either, but for now they could only wait. It was fifteen minutes of endurance.

When the two left the elevator panel, the lights suddenly went out.

"Uwah!"

Nikaidou slammed his hand against the wall hard, and the impact caused the elevator to shake violently. That made the fact that they were in a hanging box right now feel all the more real.

"Are you okay, Nikaidou-senpai?"

"Shut up, I was just surprised!"

Nikaidou’s voice echoed in the cramped chamber. Minato could even hear the sound of him clicking his tongue. In the darkness, the two held their breaths, at a loss as to what to do.

They waited for the time to pass without stirring a muscle.

Footsteps could be heard from somewhere, passing by.

The lights came back on after a while, and they became able to maintain their sight. Minato rubbed his chest with a sigh of relief, but a strange change was happening in Nikaidou.

His complexion was bad, and there was cold sweat beading on his forehead. He was panting in quick, rough breaths, and then he bent at his waist and curled his back. Perhaps not being able to stand, he pushed his body against the wall and scrunched down.

"Shit, what the hell is this crap… I need to get out of here now. Pretty sure it’s been fifteen minutes a long time ago…"

During Minato’s hospitalization, he had had similar symptoms.

He reached out his hand to rub Nikaidou’s back.

"Don’t touch me!"

"Nikaidou-senpai, you are probably hyperventilating. You are breathing in too much oxygen. Please breathe more slowly."

"Shut up. Don’t order me around…"

"I am not. I think it will soothe you, so please try it."

"Shut the hell up! This is all because I’m riding the same elevator as someone like you. I need to get out of here, now!"

Beneath his pale face, his eyes shone with a tinge of bloodlust.

"…It’s all your fault. Heard that the Kazemai coach got injured protecting you, didn’t he? Misfortune befalls anyone involved with you…"

Minato felt like he had been struck with a blunt object. He couldn’t deny it and the core of his head was numb. Before his eyes was a person who was clearly in bad condition and becoming panicked, but since he was told that anyone who gets involved with him becomes unlucky, he wouldn’t be able to interfere with him. But, there should be some way calm him down.

Think, think.

Rack your brain.

Minato crouched down and matched Nikaidou’s gaze.

"Nikaidou-senpai, if you sleep here, a zashiki-warashi will come and draw whiskers on your face, you know?"

"…Hah?"

"If you say misfortune befalls anyone who gets involved with me, isn’t something unfamiliar approaching you also mysterious? (4) At the summer training camp, when one of our club members woke up, a zashiki-warashi drew whiskers on his face. And it was with permanent marker."

Are you serious, the graffiti artist wasn’t a zashiki-warashi, but unmistakably a human—was what Nikaidou wanted to retort, but he was already in a state where it was difficult for him to talk. There was buzzing in his ears and was barely keeping conscious with the dizziness and numbness throughout his whole body. In the first place, for a joke that was just waiting for a sarcastic retort, telling it with a serious face was just too scary.

Minato placed his hand on Nikaidou’s back arbitrarily.

"I told you not to touch me…"

"Please breathe slowly, like you’re entered kai. It’s your strong point, right, senpai? I will count. One…two…three. You’ll be alright. Let’s breathe slowly one more time."

Without any strength to disobey, and with the single-minded desire to escape from this pain, Nikaidou breathed out as he was told. In the meantime, Minato continued to rub his back.

How much time had passed? Nikaidou, whose breathing was now stable, raised his hand in indication that Minato no longer had to rub his back. There were people’s voices outside, but rescue still hadn’t come yet. Maybe the hallway was busy.

Nikaidou let fall a few words in a low voice.

"…My uncle asked Saionji-sensei to take him as a disciple. Although he begged him with the willing resolution to even change his school, he wasn’t accepted, and nowadays his body is ruined and he can’t even draw a bow. I always thought this. That if Saionji-sensei chose my uncle instead of you guys, then the future might have changed. Why was it an elementary schooler, and what’s more, someone like you who just passed by… Even now, you’re blessed with an advisor and coach. I can’t forgive you…"

Minato thought that meeting Saionji-sensei and Masa-san were events akin to miracles, so he truly was blessed. But, even if he could redo his life once again, he wouldn’t give up anything.

A beautiful tsurune that shot through his heart.

His encounter with the bow.

"Nikaidou-senpai, you're actually a kyudo nut. I didn’t realize that until now."

"…Hah? How did you get that?"

"And, I think you and I are both lucky. Tsujimine High School’s total number of hits in the preliminaries was eighteen, right? Even though you aren’t a powerhouse school, a school that had people with that high of a hitting rate gathered together surely means that your passion towards kyudo had drew comrades towards you. You can’t win group competitions even if just one person was skilled."

"…Quit it. That’s just a coincidence."

"Yeah. A lucky coincidence."

At that moment, the elevator slowly ascended, and the door opened. Right on the other side were several people, and a nostalgic face greeted Minato.

"Minato! Thank goodness. Here, drink some water."

"Did you and the others go to the bath?"

"We got out of it a long time ago. There was another elevator that was working normally."

"I see. I guess our elevator broke down by chance."

When he checked the time, he learned that they had been confined for forty-five minutes, but it felt like about two hours had passed.

Right after Nikaidou exited the elevator, he collapsed on the spot, and was caught by Fuwa and Ootaguro.

Ootaguro spoke.

"Here, I’ll lend you my shoulder."

"No, I’m fine…"

Fuwa also inserted his arm under Nikaidou’s armpit.

"If you try to be thoughtful in a situation like this, we won’t win tomorrow’s competition, right? Ootaguro and I both know that you have claustrophobia. You should really muzzle your brother. When you were little, you were accidentally locked into a cellar, right? You’re like a certain countryside rich boy." (5)

Nikaidou met his eyes. A nasty smile appeared on his face.

"What the hell … I really am the lamest…"

"Yeah, you're super uncool. It’s too late for you now."

"Shit… Fuwa, I’ll punch your lights out later."

"Can you even punch me when you’re so unsteady like this?"

Nikaidou stood with the support of Fuwa and Ootaguro. They slowly began to walk.

"Sorry about this, Kuro-chan."

"It’s nothing, since you’re so light!"

"…I can’t really be happy about that. Since I’m a boy."

Nikaidou’s brows lowered.

Afterwards, Minato got apologies and explanations from the person from the elevator company and the hotel manager, and then was finally released.

Tommy-sensei placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You must have had quite the scare. Go take a long rest for the rest of today."

"Yes, sir. I am sorry for all the trouble."

Minato was sharing a room with Seiya, but he climbed into bed first and fell asleep just like that. To not wake him up, Seiya passed the time in Kaito, Nanao, and Ryouhei’s room.

Before long, Seiya decided to go to bed and returned to his room, where he noticed that Minato was curled up in blankets that he had brought out from the closet, in addition to his comforter.

Seiya called out to him softly.

"Minato, what’s wrong? Aren’t you hot covered in so many blankets?"

"…I feel way too cold. And my body hurts all over…"

"Cold?"

It wasn’t like the air conditioning was too effective. His exposed skin was red, and he was covered in a faint sheen of sweat. When Seiya felt his forehead, he could feel that he was burning up without having to check his temperature. He could imagine that his body pains were muscle pains from a high fever. Seiya rubbed Minato’s arms, back, and feet.

"How do you feel? Do you feel a little better when I massage you?"

"…Yeah, I feel better. But, Seiya, you should stay away from me. I don’t think it’s the flu or anything like that since it’s summer, but it'd be bad if you caught a cold…"

As soon as he said that, Minato turned over. Frequently turning and tossing in bed happened when one trying to escape from pain or suffering, so he seemed to be in quite a lot of pain. Since muscles covered the entire body, the range of the pain was wide, and Seiya alone could not attend to all of them. Seiya contacted Tommy-sensei and Masa-san.

Thinking how suspicious that people kept entering and exiting the room, Kaito, Nanao, and Ryouhei also visited. Following Seiya, they also volunteered to care for Minato, but the sight of the four boys massaging Minato’s whole body was nothing but hilariously absurd to the point of view of an onlooker.

Masa-san stilled everyone’s hands, and then put the back of his hand to Minato’s cheek.

"He is certainly burning up. I think it’s something like a developmental fever, but let’s take him to the hospital."

He changed his sweaty clothes with the help of Tommy-sensei, and wrapped them in a blanket. They had decided to go to a night hospital, but Minato couldn’t stand up because of the pain all over his body.

Masa-san turned his back to him.

"I'm carrying you."

"…Sorry, Masa-san…"

When they were getting into the taxi, Masa-san spoke.

"Seiya, switch rooms with me. Move to Tommy-sensei’s room."

"But, it’s better that I stay with Minato."

"If you get a fever too and it affects tomorrow’s competition, then Minato would be the one who would feel the most depressed. I'm leaving this to you. Seiya, you are the club president. I’m counting on you to support everyone else."

"…I understand."

Seiya saw the taxi off.

After they reached the hospital, they waited for their turn for a medical examination in the waiting room. They came after they called ahead, but it seemed that it was unexpectedly busy and it would take a while.

The TV would be on during the day, but the screen was turned off at night. Other than this corner, the lights were turned off, and in the darkness, the underwater forest in the aqua terrarium looked like it was floating in the sky. Foam bubbles burst open at the water’s edge.

Masa-san wiped the sweat off Minato’s forehead with a towel. Minato then closed his eyes.

"Do you want to lie down?"

"No. But more importantly, Masa-san, you should keep a distance from me."

"I’ll be fine, since when my whole family had to stay in bed because of the flu, I was the only one who didn’t catch it."

Minato opened his half-closed eyes and smiled a little bit.

"…As expected of Masa-san."

"You can lean on me if you’re tired."

"…No, I’m okay."

Minato crossed his arms to hug himself tightly.

Even though he usually didn’t get fevers, what was he doing after having come such a long way here? Tomorrow was the last day, the day of the finals that he made a promise to Shuu and the others to be in. He even talked with Seiya about managing their health.

He felt like crying at his own feebleness.

Why am I so weak?

Names were called by order, and before long Minato and Masa-san were the only ones in the waiting room.

Minato muttered.

"With my condition like this, I might not be able to be in tomorrow’s match…"

"You went through the experience of being trapped in an elevator, so your body’s been through a shock. You’ll be cured when you take medicine and have a good night’s sleep.”

"It’s okay, you don’t have to comfort me."

"That’s pretty negative for you to say, Minato. I thought you said that you would be in the competition even if you had to crawl. If you weren’t there, then Kazemai would only have four people, you know?"

The jade-green colour of the aqua terrarium was reflected in Minato’s eyes.

"…Sorry. I was being timid just now. That wound on your forehead didn't disappear, Masa-san. Misfortune befalls those who get involved with me…"

"What’s with that chuunibyou-like thing you said? My wound is mostly gone, and even now you can’t see it because my bangs are covering it, right? Oh, did Nikaidou say something to you? He’s quite the talker."

"That’s not it…"

"Your face tells me otherwise. Then let me ask you, do I look unlucky to you?"

Minato shook his head.

"See? The only one who decides if I'm lucky or not is me. It’s not something to have other people decide for you. For me, what’s unlucky is not having that place."

Masa-san grinned.

What they did not hear until now was the sound of the river flowing in the forest of the aqua terrarium.

The clear murmuring of the stream reminded him of a scene from summer training camp. It was fun and pleasant to spend the time together with everyone, and he wished that it could continue on like that forever.

Memories of summer vacation.

His precious bow friends.

"This is often used in analogies, but there is a cup half-filled with water. The levels of happiness are completely different for the people who think it’s half-full, and the people who think it’s half-empty. The one who associates the matter of a cup half-filled with water with things like happy or sad, good or bad, is oneself—"I." The matter itself is not good or evil."

"'Form is emptiness’—it’s similar to the Heart Sutra. Saionji-sensei taught it to us as a breathing method in the past." (6)

"Buddhism preaches casting away worldly desires. That fixations and desires cause people inconvenience. When those limiters are removed, a person are able to perform at their best.”

"Masa-san, I want to ask you something."

"Hmm? What’s that?”

“I want to touch the wound on your forehead——”

The current me can’t be like this person, who has such a clear view of things. "if at that time, if I didn’t stay in that spot and acted with everyone else, Masa-san wouldn’t have been injured”—I can’t erase that regret.

In that case, I’ll accept it all properly. I will continue to bear the truths that I want to turn my eyes away from, that I want to pretend doesn’t exist.

"Go ahead."

Masa-san moved his face closer, presenting his forehead. His eyes, deep blue like the sea, were slowly blinking.

Minato ran his heat-tinged fingers through Masa-san’s bangs.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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ask-glados · 5 years

Text

GLaDOS Liveplay [Part 2]

Something I forgot to mention in the last part is that in The Final Hours of Portal 2 eBook on Steam, the developers said that the reason behind the 50,000 year time skip was because they wanted to separate Portal 2 from the events of the Half Life universe. I personally think connecting the two universes could be pretty epic, so I don't understand why they're so against it.

Here’s the quotes from the eBook:

So, apparently they have giant laser beam generators somewhere and they just portal those lasers over to each test chamber, for some reason. That's Aperture for ya, lol.

This test chamber is actually another one from Portal 1. When you walk in, GLaDOS moves the old High Energy Pellet Launcher out of the room and replaces it with a Thermal Discouragement Beam (a laser). She replaces the receptacle too.

[from Portal 1]

GLaDOS gets her first dose of that solution euphoria as you solve the first test, and she suddenly sounds more laid back. She tells you to pace yourself because she needs to keep you busy while she fixes up the facility and figures out how to replace you with less dangerous test subjects. She doesn't want to keep you around too long because you might try to escape the testing track and kill her again.

She definitely sounds more relaxed now, her initial rage wearing off as she becomes more comfortable in running the facility and being in control again. Also, apparently she was planning to replace the High Energy Pellets with Lasers back in Portal 1.

GLaDOS is still trying to corral all these panels back into line. They even appear to have little hints of personality to them, some of them spinning around playfully, and they all have round circular lights that seem to indicate an AI core. In fact, a lot of things around Aperture seem to have AI cores. It's even mentioned by GLaDOS in CO-OP that she made Atlas and P-Body out of cores she took out of scientific calculators, so apparently Aperture just puts AI cores in everything. I'll point some of them out as we go along. It'll be like a game of 'spot the AI core'!

This also ties into another thing I wanna comment on. I’ve seen people theorize about the panels and other things in the facility being like a part of GLaDOS’s body that she can feel through, and I disagree. Throughout several chambers, you can see these panels goofing off and acting as if they have a mind of their own. I think it’s only her chassis that acts as her body, and while she IS hooked up to the rest of the facility through wires, I don’t think stuff like panels being broken actually ‘hurts’ her. Let me put it this way: Her body is her chassis, and all the things in the facility connected to her chassis are like tools she’s holding. It’s like a million arms she has spread out across the facility, holding tools. So if you break one of those tools, it doesn’t hurt her, it’s just taking that tool away from her or ripping it out of her hands.

Now, she's moved past telling you how much you made her suffer and trying to make you feel sorry for her, and has moved on to try taking hits at your self-esteem and trying to make you feel guilty for it.

This elevator room looks much better since GLaDOS is fixing up the facility. There's less broken screens and you can see a much clearer view of their weird portaling laser thing, lol.

GLaDOS fixes up another test chamber just as you walk into it. She can barely keep up with you with how fast you're solving them.

And naturally, she takes another shot at your self-esteem. She doesn't actually think you are fat, she's just trying to get under your skin and upset you, because she knows that ‘weight variances’ can upset humans. She even says so in CO-OP:

"Did you know humans frown on weight variances? If you want to upset a human, just say their weight variance is above or below the norm."

She actually has protocols on how to mess with test subjects psychologically that involve taking shots at their self esteem to keep them compliant. Notice she is following the protocols listed for "orphans" when it comes to Chell.

"Shame-based psychology." "Opportune moments to obliterate [self-]esteem." "Scorn [and] flattery used in an ironic context and naked contempt." “You’d perform this test better if you had parents.”

This is from an interactive website ApertureScience[.]com that was run by the developers before Portal 2's release. [ half-life.fandom[.]com/wiki/ApertureScience[.]com ]

She can still barely keep up with you since she's multitasking — trying to rebuild herself and the facility, as well as keep you at bay in test chambers. Once again, she tells you to slow down.

Another attempt to taunt you and lower your self-esteem.

She's still barely keeping up with you to clear your path in time and have the chambers ready.

Now she's just being petty and trying to make you feel discouraged and depressed.

Once again, she's trying to guilt-trip you by saying how she has to do all the work around here while you get to have fun with the test chambers. This is always something she's bitter about — how she does all this work and no one gives her any credit for it. Obviously, it's because she terrorizes people, but she doesn't realize that. She thinks she should be treated with intense respect, regardless.

An interesting thing to mention about the "wing of glass" she mentions here is that there is actually a deleted Cave Johnson line where he mentions building a wing of glass.

"Now, the lab boys were adamant that I do not give you any hints on these tests. To be honest, they think I'm spoiling the results just by talking to you. Hizenstein Uncertainty Principles and so forth. I’ll give ‘em something more practical to be uncertain about: their next paycheck. Anyway, overruled. If you think I'm affecting your decisions, in any way, don’t be afraid to speak up. I’m not made of glass. That reminds me: Caroline, do we have a wing made out of glass yet? Let's get on that, Caroline."

I think that makes it that much more hilarious that Caroline is now here in AI form, cleaning up his mess years later. XD

[ tcrf[.]net/Portal_2_(Windows,_Mac_OS_X,_Linux)/Unused_Lines ]

She's still trying to keep up with you and move the panels out of your way in time. She's slowly but surely catching up.

She's still taking shots at your self-esteem, and she couldn’t even bear to be subtle about it, so she literally explains the insult just to make sure you got the metaphor.

And she’s still trying to make you feel guilty for killing her.

The Companion Cubes were created to test how test subjects could gain an emotional attachment to an inanimate object. At the end of the Companion Cube chamber in the first Portal, you were forced to "betray" your inanimate "friend" by incinerating it. So, here GLaDOS tries to get under your skin by destroying the cube multiple times and calling it worthless, implying that you don't deserve friends and that any friendship you thought you had in any Companion Cube is worthless.

Also, a neat little detail: if you listen closely, the Companion Cube plays the tune of "Cara Mia."

youtube

She's still having trouble fixing up the facility, but she's getting there. She's been working on fixing the nuclear reactor core, which was nearing meltdown back at the beginning of the game, as mentioned by the Announcer in the Relaxation Center. The reactor core splits atoms to boil water into steam, and that steam turns the turbines, which are what power the generator to create electricity, which is why you see the lights flicker when the turbines start giving her trouble. The turbine's fan blades are likely heavily corroded, rusted, or gunked up after all this time, so she has to leave to attend to that. She manages to find a quick way to taunt you by pretending to give you a sped-up hint that she knows is beyond a human's hearing comprehension — just another way to flaunt her superiority as a supercomputer to you.

What she actually says is a quote from the very first paragraph of Moby Dick:

"And methodically knocking people's hats off. Then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can."

This could be a subtle fat joke because whale = fat. But Moby Dick is also a tale about a man's obsession with revenge against a whale who bit off his leg, and GLaDOS is clearly obsessed with revenge, so I wouldn't be surprised if this was a favorite book of hers that she decided to quote from. Also, if you look at the context of this line in the paragraph it comes from, it's talking about this guy saying that when he gets angry enough to "knock people's hats off," he knows he has to get to sea and hunt that whale to vent that rage.

GLaDOS isn't there to comment when you beat this test because she's busy fixing the turbines, which ends Chapter 2, and also Part 2 of this Liveplay! I really hope you're enjoying it! :D

#Portal #Portal 2 #GLaDOS #Aperture Science #Liveplay #Live Play #GLaDOS Liveplay #analysis #GLaDOS Analysis #Portal Analysis #Portal 2 Analysis #long post

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wrongfullythinking · 5 years

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And then there were five...

The numbers say 20. Or maybe 21. It’s hard to tell. But in reality, I think we’re down to five. Five’s a good number, the same amount you can fit on a basketball floor and really know who is out there. Let’s face it, nobody but the most die-hard fan knows who bats 8th and plays left. Five? Five’s a number we can deal with. And looking at the state of things, we’re down to five realistic candidates. Maybe some of the other 15 or 16 will get a nice mike-drop moment, and maybe they’ll get a chance to advocate for a cause they believe in. But if your party is so oddly out that you need to use the presidential nomination as a way to get your ideas across... well, it worked for the Bern, but rarely do imitators have the same success as the original.

In this piece, I’m going to give brief thoughts on the five candidates, and then assign my own completely arbitrary “chance-of-winning-the-nomination” percentages.

The Frontrunner: Biden (50%) At this point, [5/2/2019], preliminary voters are presented with a choice: Joe Biden, or somebody else? It is very much Biden vs. the Pack, and if Biden is the nominee, he’ll make it very clear that it is actually TheObamaLegacy vs. EverythingNotObama. Without an Obama endorsement, that’s a tough one to pull off. Frankly, I don’t think Joe Biden is the strongest candidate, and I don’t think he will make a great president. But he’s also not going to go away until the very end of this, and if he loses, it will be because everybody else decides to unite behind another candidate.

There’s this fiction that Biden is the most “electable” candidate. He’s not, he’s the third-most electable. The second-most electable is Michelle Obama. She is a sure-fire nominee and general election winner, pulling southern states, the female vote, Florida and Michigan away from Republicans and guaranteeing there is no red path to 270. Does Biden do any of that? Probably not. He’s not Bill Clinton, with charisma to go with midwestern history. He’s not Obama himself, with a genuine melancholy and a realist outlook. He’s a meme more than a politician since 2008.

But let’s get straight what matters about Biden and what doesn’t. Nobody really cares about what he said to Anita Hill or his tough-on-crimes stance in the 90s. The media will keep dredging up these issues, and the fact that they’re having to dig this deep to find some pretty thin soil tells you a lot about Biden. He’s pretty hard to object to, and Trump is very easy to object to. There is no doubt that Biden will garner the vote of everybody who hates Trump. But can you win an election with just “Not-Trump?” Apparently not, if I remember the 2016 final tally. [But let’s not get started into how Democrats can bungle this thing, if they don’t learn from their “ignore the whites and the heartland, whine incessantly about the other guy, and then say that we should thank them for raising taxes” plan from 2016, they’re hopeless anyways.]

How can Biden win the nomination? The longer everybody else stays in, the more likely Biden wins. Let’s be clear: Biden is going to be the “least objectionable” candidate in both the Primary and the General. Biden’s chances also go up every time somebody else goes low, but his years of experience as Washington and his long, long list of friends, combined with strong association with Obama, make him the most resilient and easily-forgiven of the candidates.

How does Biden lose the nomination? The rest of the field unites behind one or two other candidates who pound Biden with policy expertise, passionate speeches, and a presidential air. Or, frankly, Biden himself disengages. The more time Biden has to prepare (and hire the best speech-writers), the more Biden is likely to be president. The more time the media spends showing his off-the-cuff gaffes (and there will be plenty), and we could see a Howard Dean scenario emerge, provided there is another strong candidate. The other danger to Biden is that the young vote deserts him in favor of another candidate, and the older generation stays apathetic for the days of Obama.

What to expect from a Biden presidency: First, a lot less headlines. Wouldn’t it be nice to open CNN on any day and see that the webpage’s headline was not about the President? That’s not a ringing endorsement of Biden, nor will it excite the often-raving-horde of young politicos. But let’s be honest... young politicos have always been a bit of a raving horde, and this generation really isn’t different. They just tweet instead of march and browse webpages instead of newspapers. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Biden establish a legacy as the “infrastructure President.” And that’d be fine with most Americans. I certainly would love to see some high-speed rails, because **** the airline companies. They’re terrible. The American Highway System is a wonder of the modern world, and improving it with a series of electrical refueling stations and solar-powered rest stops couldn’t hurt. Infrastructure is an easy win, and Biden’s going to take easy wins. As he should.

The Rabble Rouser: Bernie Sanders, 15% The Bern seems to be a better candidate on paper than he actually is; right now, he’s benefitting from the same early-momentum wave that carried Hillary to the Chair of the Anointed One at the Democratic Convention. Bernie’s always had bad timing though, and I’m not convinced this is any different. Had Biden stayed out of the race, I’d put Bernie’s chances at 30 or 40%. But with Biden in, I’m not sure there are enough Obama-era democrats who actually prefer the Bern. Sure, the young/gay/urban/unemployed/coastal [pick two] crowd who wants to reshape the country into a Scandinavian one loves him. But how many of us want to weigh our trash and be charged 6$ for each pound of it the garbage guy has to pick up? How many of us want to be told by a bank that they can’t offer us a loan, because we didn’t attend a prestigious enough university [coastal degrees only for investment bankers]? Let’s not even start on 55% tax rates for the middle class or subsidizing a 29-year-old’s NYC apartment as he trucks through a medieval literature degree one-course-at-a-time. This is obvious hyperbole, but “democratic socialism” starts with “democratic,” and that means “the beliefs of the people” are synonyms with “the will of the people.” Could some of the Bern’s policies work in America. Sure. But there’s no evidence that he can convince any except his already die-hard advocates that they all can, and a policy doesn’t make a system. I’m not convinced Americans, be they blue or red or the purple-murky-middle, are really excited about this sort of sea change.

How to Sanders win/lose the nomination? If the “woke” wing of the party fails to find a demographic-win in Harris or Buttigieg, and decides to yell loud enough to keep the Obama-era democrats from crowning Biden, or if Biden drops out as well as Harris/Buttigieg, Sanders could end up engaged in a rhetorical battle with Warren that neither of them want, but the country might need. At that point, it’s a coin-flip and a nasty convention, and lines in the sand may become tracks on the ground, separating the haves-and-have-nots in the Democratic party. Still, Sanders could emerge in such a scenario with a win, though I’d tip my hand towards Warren.

What to expect from a Sanders presidency: There’s a small chance we get a lot of everything, and a large chance we get absolutely nothing, depending on how Congress plays out. It is always amusing to me to watch candidates at this stage talk policy, because, you know... the President doesn’t write policy. Okay, he [or soon-to-be “she”] does, but not really. You’ve got to go back to the 70s/80s to find Presidents who were really able to institutionalize their policies in statute, and unless Sanders picks up a majority in both Houses, and even then, it is tough to see most of his ideas actually making it into law. I’ve critiqued Obama before as being “the Toothless President,” because his “signature accomplishment” of the AHCA is already mostly dust-in-the-wind, and it wasn’t even much of a victory to start with [he didn’t even get a government-based option!]. Sanders’ ideas are likely too big for any political reality, and remember, he’s been in the Senate for a LONG time. How much of his work do you see in your daily life?

The Best: Elizabeth Warren, 30% One of the strangest (and most chilling) realities of this election cycle is how dismal Warren is polling. What we’re seeing here is what I call “The Hillary Effect,” where an unlikable-older-white-woman is conjuring up all our memories of nasty assistant principals and that mean piano teacher who kept whacking our fingers. Warren is neither of those things, but her image is not, at this point, helping her. Warren needs the rest of the electorate to come to Warren-land, where what matters is your policy chops, and it remains to be seen if the Democratic party (no racism, no slander, no ableism!) allows itself to move past her white-and-rich appearance.

So, let’s have that experiment. Let’s get past the appearance and the fact that she listed herself as 25% Native American in order to get a law school scholarship. What do you have left? What you have left is a woman who can be President. She’s been a far more successful politician than either Sanders or Biden, and she’s the candidate with the best touch to the realities of the parties from coast-to-coast. Warren’s policies, although a bit left-of-center, are clearly centered around the groups she wants to elevate: small businesses, Americans with children, and all of us who are willing to work for a living but want to be able to live like we want if we do. Warren’s the president who believes in exchange: you put in your time with her, and you feel like she’ll give you something back. That’s a big difference from the Hillary Clinton campaign. Look at the Clinton slogan: “I’m with her.” Compare that to Trump’s slogan (Make America Great Again), and we know which one won. On a slogan level, the second one SHOULD win. You want a president who is about making the country great. Warren’s the politician who gets that, and understands how Trump is appealing to people’s needs, rather than setting out for a list of “the world should be like this.” The fact that her policies are so well-defined and solidly based in the needs of Americans is what sets her so far apart from the rest of the crowd. I have no qualms in saying that of the current pack, I would much rather have Warren as my president than any other candidate, and it isn’t close.

How does Warren win/lose the nomination? Warren’s path to victory starts by convincing Obama-era democrats that she is more Obama than Biden is. That’s a tough sell, because she looks more like Hillary... who, let’s not forget, lost a nomination to Obama before she lost to Trump. Warren needs to separate herself from Hillary and align herself with Obama. Frankly, an Obama endorsement might be the thing that lands the race in her lap. Warren also needs the conversation to revolve around policy. She’s the best at that, and she needs to convince people that she can get her policies not just in front of Congress, but through it. The less talk is about policy, and the more it is about nebulous ideas or demographics or social media or broad philosophical stances, the worse Warren will do.

What to expect from a Warren presidency. We might get some high-speed rails, but we’ll likely see taxes go up on the rich, stay stagnant on the middle class, and see some supplement for popular welfare-type programs (college aid, family aid, etc.). I’m not convinced Warren can make a difference in healthcare, and I’m fine if she doesn’t; we’ve wasted 12 years on the topic now and it just may not be the window. But there are so many other issues that Warren can tackle that would make a difference to Americans. I’d love a tax credit for putting solar power on a roof, and Warren’s the one I see making that happen, not Sanders. I’d like to see university students get some more support federally [good job on Summer Pell!] and that is most likely to come from Warren. Generally, I think we’ll see the “B” versions of her stump-speech policies become realities. The middle-50% of Americans will pay 20-30% in taxes, not 15, and the highest-1% will pay 40%, not 50 or 70. Small businesses will get their health care burden for employees subsidized, but won’t be able to write off all debts for a decade. Farmers may again be able to make a profit off a cow, though we may all pay an extra 25c per gallon for milk and an extra 30c per pound of beef.

((My wish list for Warren: rein in credit card companies and payday loans. Nobody but a bank should be able to give you a credit card, let’s stop all this “Sears Card, Best Buy Card, Kohls Card” nonsense that keeps American families in debt from their late-teens to retirement. And banks need transparent policies about awarding credit cards and loans, and be forced to stick with them, not making nebulous decisions about eligibility based on who-the-lending-officer-is and the skin color of their applicant. /rant end))

Bernie 2.0 or Trump 2.0???: Buttigieg, 3% Buttigieg may have the most energy, but the primary process may be the most damaging to him. I mean, it let him get into the race in first place, and he does look a bit like a Kennedy, doesn’t he? And his charisma is first-rate, his qualifications trump Trump’s at this point in the last election cycle [low bar, right?] and he’s just non-white enough [because he has sex with men, so that counts] to keep some of the Democrat’s own bloodhounds off his back. The weaknesses are also glaring: he doesn’t have the policy of Warren, the political capital of Biden, or the funds and the rabid fans of Bernie. But he is from a Midwestern state, and the Democrats could do worse than considering that. The trouble here is that no one really sees the energy lasting for another year. But hey, it worked for Trump, right?

The trouble is that Buttigieg needs a Trump-like groundswell of support to carry him to the nomination, and right now, that base is going Sanders, and may squash any non-Sanders candidate who should appeal to them simply by virtue of them already having Sanders bumper stickers. To get it, Buttigeig may have to be the one who starts to go low, and he’s shown a reticience to do so. At some point, Buttigieg will need to argue that he’s the Midwestern candidate, and the Democrats need the Midwest. How he makes that argument, who he convinces, and if anybody can be convinced, will all dictate how long Buttigieg stays relevant.

How does Buttigieg win/lose the nomination? Frankly, I don’t see this happening without Sanders dropping out the race, and that likely means a Sanders health problem. That’s not an exciting prospect for anybody, but if Sanders drops out and then endorses Buttigieg, we could see a late-term surge for him past the other remaining candidates. He has to raise enough money to be in it for that long, and he’s got to continue to have great town halls and debates, which are two areas where he shines. I think Buttigieg is going to be a player in the democratic party for years to come, but I don’t think this is his race.

The Californian: Harris, 10% Harris is not likable. She wants to be Michelle, and she’s not. Oh yeah, earlier, when I said that Michelle Obama was the second-most electable person in America? That’s because she’s behind Beyonce. And let’s be clear, Harris is NOT Beyonce. That’s not a dig against either of them, it is a reality of the situation: there are a number of high-powered black women easily in the public eye (in addition to the above two, let’s not forget Oprah, Whoopi, and Stacy Abrams), and Harris is less-likeable than all of them. She comes across brusque, aggressive, and well... a little bit like Trump. That’s not what we want, right? Right? The point is, the Democratic party vilifies unlikeable women, and if Warren is struggling with this, Harris is absolutely going to drown in it. We can talk about feminism and compare waves all we want, but people are going to pay lip-service to that in public, and in private, quietly mark ballots for Biden. That’s always a concern of the Democratic party, and I’m not sure Harris is the one that cures it. I am sure that Harris does not carry the female vote away from Biden, Sanders, or Warren. She’s not a woman’s candidate.

What’s really difficult for Harris is that she’s not anyone’s candidate. California? Sure, why not, but any democrat carries California against Trump. Who cares? The black vote? Last I checked, it was what, roughly 8% of America and not enough to carry Pennsylvania or Michigan? Nor any of the Deep South (that Obama won) against a Trump campaign. The nice part of this is that Harris has the potential to make in-roads with a lot of groups. She’s a professional, she has a presidential air, and she has a prosecutor’s wit. She’s unashamedly intelligent and not afraid of a big moment, like we saw with the 13,500-to-teachers announcement or the recent Barr hearings. She’s less good in-the-moment, where she comes across as a lawyer and not a politician, appealing to the paper rather than the audience. And there’s not a good sound-byte here yet. But Harris could be all those things. Maybe.

How does Harris win/lose the nomination? Harris gets 10% here because she may be the one with the most obvious route past Biden, if Sanders and Warren get out of her way. She needs to improve her on-stage performances (that Town Hall was dismal) and she needs to make sure her focus is where it needs to be, and not get caught talking about things like medical care or Yang’s tech-policies that are clearly not her wheelhouse. It is a matter of sticking to her lane, and then including as many people as possible in her car. She wants to pull people towards her, and the better she can do that, and avoid her lawyer’s instinct of defining boundaries of “Yes” and “No,” the better she’ll do. Harris has the real potential to use this race to grow up from prosecutor to politician, and if she does that, she could be a force. I don’t see her as a serious challenge to Warren or Sanders if it comes down to them as the final two, but I do see her challenging Biden if it ends up with the two of them. Harris needs to stay in the race, keep practicing her presence, and start avoiding troublesome questions like a politician, while maintaining a few key clear policies that people can tie to her name. The bump-for-teachers was a great start, and if she could become “the education candidate,” we might really have something here.

The Rest: 2% I feel like the rest of the field isn’t trying to be President, they’re trying to use the nomination process to make money/crusade-a-cause or just stir up feelings. I’m disappointed this is happening to democrats, because it keeps the five real potential candidates from offering powerful distinctions. Does the party want to move towards Bernie-socialism? Can we believe in Farmers? Do Democrats actually value the MIdwest (according to Hillary, no... does Biden change that narrative)? What is the role of the US internationally, specifically with regards to China and a post-Brexit UK? Was is the reasonable path towards renewable energy, and how does it help me lower my energy bill next January? Will I be able to claim Social Security, and if the system is poor, how do we fix it [or incentivize workers and companies to start doing a better job with retirement plans]? What does a rising interest mean for American home-buyers, and do we want Americans to buy homes? There are so many questions that the candidates differ on, and I worry that we won’t be able to hear from the important candidates on them, because we’ll be hearing somebody’s own hot take on Putin or how Universal Basic Income is something we should pretend to care about for the next 12 minutes. That’s a disservice to the party and the voters, and I hope the debate moderators, pundits, and press over the next 12 months give us a clear view of where the candidates stand and the differences between then.

The afterthought: AOC. Well, we’ve got to talk about her, right? The thing is, we don’t. She’s not a political force, she’s a social one. So, let’s get the obvious out of the way: she’s not eligible to run for President now, though she might be in four years (I’m actually not clear on where her birthday lines up with inauguration day, and I don’t think she’s important enough to check). The very real flaw here is that AOC is not representative. No person is. Yes, I get that she’s non-white and female. Guess what, our country is about 50% male and somewhere around 50% white. So by virtue of being not, it is impossible to argue that someone is. However, the real problem with “representative” is that AOC is coastal and urban, and her perspectives are entirely based on those realities. This is a shame, because for all that people can tout her LatinX heritage, she is very much out-of-tune with high-LatinX states like New Mexico, Texas, and even the non-coastal parts of California. Does that matter in an electoral college world? Maybe not... no Democrat is expected to carry Texas, and no Democrat will fail to carry California. But she’s not a candidate (like Harris, or Obama) who can expect to pull a huge amount of votes simply based on her demographic information. That math has never worked out as well as pundits want it to... remember the Palin experiment? That certainly didn’t persuade the female vote to go Red. And this is one place where I think the American electorate is sadly underestimated; it is assumed we vote for people who look like us, and I find American voters quite a bit more savvy than that. AOC doesn’t pull the LatinX vote as a block, and she certainly doesn’t carry Texas. Alongside the coastal-based policies and city-only mentality she carries, there is no reason to nominate AOC in four years.

#politics #democratic presidential nomination #nomination

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stunudo · 6 years

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Infiltrated: Part 2

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader/ George Foyet x Female Reader

Setting: Season 4

A/N: I got an unsub fmk-type ask. So this came from that. This is going to be darker than any other series I have done. Hope you guys like it! The reader character has a last name because she is protecting her identity. image link This one is story heavy and longer than chapter 1. Xoxo Stu

Warnings: Blood, violence, moral repugnancy, and general unsub behavior. Also violent smut.

Series Part 1

Your name: submit What is this?

Presenting the information was overly formal, instead you improvised and had copies of your thesis sent to the members of the BAU. You weren’t an egomaniac, but this way they knew what you did and wouldn’t constantly question your presence there. Hotchner replied to your email with a simple, “I’ve read it, thanks.”

You arrived to their conference room early, early enough to feel like you were intruding on a house whose occupants were on vacation, not that you had ever done such a thing. You set up your files and Bureau laptop, brought from your desk on the seventh floor. You took it upon yourself to open two maps, one of Boston proper and another of the continental United States. Taking each in turn and tacking to the provided board pushed to the side of the room.

The Boston map was easier, each street and every avenue integral as the tracks of scars over your skin. You pushed a few pins in the safe houses George had given Roy Colson and eventually Agents Hotchner and Rossi. You also stuck pins in each of the original crime scenes as well as George’s attacks since his resurgence. The photos from the bus still clung to the dark recesses of your mind; George was shoving Hotch’s refusal back in his face. His morals had cost people’s lives, a reminder that no one simply refuses an offer from the Reaper.

“We’ll get another board in here for any new cases,” Hotch’s voice behind you was steady, while unexpected.

“Oh, right. I should have probably asked before I started setting up.” You paused between the table with your things and the evidence already on display. “Are you sure?”

“It’s fine, Turner,” Hotch nodded, mouth flat and brow heavy.

Soon the rest of the BAU filed into the seats separating you and the surly Unit Chief. After pleasantries that were not quite sincere, you remained calm as the round table began.

“We need to go back and interview everyone that was connected to Foyet while he moved between his various safe houses for the past ten years.” Hotch started off.

“Boston PD is still combing through evidence and first hand accounts. But like Garcia said he was very much off the grid, Hotch.” Derek continued.

“No one lives without some human connection in a city that size,” Prentiss pointed out.

“No, he spent time teaching his target demographic under various aliases and promptly disappeared when he slipped up.” Your voice layered with your disgust.

“Well, Colson found him, maybe he slipped up more than we thought,” Dr. Reid posed.

“Not-” “Well-” Hotch and you said in unison.

“Colson was feeding his narcissistic side. He was giving him his day in the sun.” Rossi was on the same wave length.

“Maybe what we need to be looking for, is a fan,” Prentiss’s eyebrows peaked.

“Every serial killer has them,” Rossi agreed.

“Groupies? Really?” You played up the disbelief. Leave it to Rossi to lead the team down the one line of investigation you didn’t want them taking too seriously.

You were only granted an hour of time on the clock to spend with the BAU. You milked the time as along as you could, but your SSA sent the rookie down to fetch you before long. The over-muscled guy knocked timidly at the door frame, interrupting Hotch as he assigned the spectrum of follow up details to you and his team. You rolled your eyes at the intrusion, grabbing your computer and files before it got more awkward.

Hemmings, that was the sucker’s name, insisted on making continuous comments on the BAU and your place at the table over the short elevator ride. You gave minimal responses and left him alone in the metal box as soon as the doors parted. It was going to be an impossibly long day. Which turned into a week. You kept Hotch and by extension the BAU updated on any new intelligence you received from the Boston PD.

The electronic communication caused you more worry than necessary, but your boss was on your ass about spending time on other cases. You kept your head down and got through your unit’s surveillance like a good little agent. By Thursday night you had given up playing by the sidelines, it was time to figure out just what you needed to get cozy with the profilers.

In the coming week and a half, you had a busy nightlife. Reid was an easy tail, he took public transportation and kept to himself for the most part. He had the most eclectic interests of anyone on the team. Derek was a gym rat or was spitting game. His wounded pride left him overly eager in the investigation and you wouldn’t let his leisure activities let you forget that. Prentiss was even more solitary than Reid, but she was also harder to follow in a crowd.

JJ spent her time at home, though she wasn’t considered a profiler, you knew better than to underestimate another woman. Especially a new mother. Rossi lived in a gated community and as easy as you could hop the fence or flash your badge, you decided to leave him alone. No sense getting in deeper than you needed to. That left the tech girl and Hotch. Your final targets, the most dangerous of them all; one could expose you while one could send you away without a second chance.

Going over your boards on each team member, you sipped from a bottle of whiskey. The burn short and familiar down your throat. Garcia felt like a Venus fly trap, she was dangerous because she was welcoming and recklessly curious. She drove an obnoxious, oversized car you could follow blindfolded and she rarely left headquarters for anything besides sleep, shopping or some selfless act of volunteerism. You had to play it careful on the spending and electronic traces.

You hadn’t been to Hotch’s place yet, because he was so rarely home. It seemed like the office was installed around him. If it wasn’t for his pristine hygiene regimen he would be a mess. You stared at the wall of pictures and notes swaying subconsciously on the spot.

He grabbed you from behind and pulled your waist and nape of your neck in equal force.

“How you doing there, Agent Turner?” George Foyet’s deep voice was coarse against your ear. His strong body held you fiercely, but once he spoke you melted into him, letting your head loll to the side. Like a dog exposing its belly to an alpha, you granted him your vulnerability and his jaw nuzzled into the flesh along your neck, to accept it.

“I didn’t think you knew where I lived,” You murmured as his hand dragged over your arm, pulling the bottle out of your hand. He set it on the coffee table with a disapproving clunk. He sat down on the couch, he looked oddly tired.

“Of course I know where you live, I just didn’t want you to expect me to come over. Have dinner, spoon, all that.” George was never not direct. You stood, watching him as he kicked his heels beside your half empty bottle of numbness.

“Do you want me to order food?” You smirked as he shrugged.

In the half hour it took for the food to be delivered, you explained what had happened since you had last seen each other. How you had been tracking the members of the BAU, gaining their trust during the short time you worked with them on the investigation and how your placement within the Bureau was growing more of a hindrance than a help.

George listened, but only asked questions when it had to do with the agents’ personal lives. He didn’t exactly tell you good job, but he gave you an impressed glance once or twice. You took what you could get out of him, it was better than being needy. He kept the whiskey away from you most of the night, insisting that the food you ordered should more than sustain you. After you had gone over every detail and the next few steps of the plan, did he finally touch you.

You hadn’t grown dependent on him, nor were you only sating your desires together. But it was good to know he was coming back to you, willingly. Even under the radar fugitive serial killers needed someone, every once in a while. He nuzzled against your neck his eyes drinking in the soft skin along your shoulders. His strong fingers dragged the straps of your tank top down, leaving the fabric resting on the peaks of your chest. But then, he was gone. The warmth and manic energy fading from you as he paced the room; a lion in a cage.

“Take your clothes off,” He said it quietly, his eyes staring you down. You stared back, fighting to keep the smirk from your face. Instead of continuing where he left off, you kicked off your shoes, shimming out of your tailored suit pants. You carefully folded them and draped them on the couch. You walked back to the center of the room, in just your lace thong and barely hanging on camisole. The welts he had given you last time had faded, his eyes hovering over your hips.

You made sure to hold your chin up as you dragged your fingertips along the crest of your breasts, tracing along the thin material. You caressed your nipples through the fabric, the feeling of being watched simmering between shame and exhilaration. George’s groan turned nearly into a purr as you dragged your nails down, leaving raised streaks in evenly spaced rows as you took off your top. His signature was still there, placed in the center of your chest, you felt him look for it as you slid the bunched material over your hips, taking the flimsy panties with it.

“You sure know what you’re doing, Y/N.” George teased, his pants tight against his length. “A little slut like you must be spreading that pussy over every inch of the Bureau.”

That hurt, not because of the name-calling, that wasn’t the problem. The suggestion that you were sleeping with all those pencil pushing limp-dicks on your floor made your skin crawl.

“Did I hit a nerve?” George’s voice perked with the wavering on your face.

“You know there’s no one else.” You whispered, standing completely naked as he circled around you.

“Maybe. Maybe you just need a real man to make up for all those that couldn’t give you what you need.” George’s voice was in the kitchen, he was looking through drawers for something. He reentered the room behind you. You inhaled and exhaled as his footfalls got closer.

“And what’s that?” You said over your shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about it.” George crooned.

“No, I mean. What do I need?” Your voice caught on a whimper as the rough object was pulled up your thigh.

“You, Y/N, you need to be shown what a tender piece of ass you are.”

The first blow hit against your ass, it was swift and biting. A meat tenderizer; making the blood pool to the surface as it hemorrhaged. You wouldn’t be able to sit tomorrow.

You lay curled on your stomach clutching the pillows, the night air falling on your warm skin. George had had quite the fit with your body. From your natural waist down to your mid thighs was a battering of bruises ad gashes. He would take breaks to watch your face, waiting for the pain to lessen just enough before he started again. He used the dull side more than the piercing side which meant the pain was deeper and the damage would last longer. You had given up on being intimate, the need to remain upright overcoming any primal masochistic desire. When he was done he fucked you senseless, barking encouragement as you whimpered from the friction. He was getting scarier the longer you played along.

He came over his handiwork, the fluid burning against the raw skin of your backside. You hadn’t even seen him undressed, he just put himself away to fall asleep on your bed. Something he had never done in front of you before. It was too vulnerable a thing, sleep. Sleep is what mortals did, not Fate incarnate. But there he was, spread out beside you, sleeping like a baby. The price bought for the near intimacy was etched into your skin.

The thought of covering his face with one of the pillows floated through your mind more than once. Just as you looked at the clock to estimate how long it would take to apply the right amount of pressure, figuring in if your body weight would be enough to keep him pinned down, your phone rang. Not the burner George used, your FBI issued phone.

“Turner.” You answered after limping back to the living room.

“Have you heard back from Sgt. O’Mara on the last of the interviews with the harassment victims?”

“Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“It’s one in the morning.” You shuffled into the kitchen to grab a pain killer and the whiskey George had taken from you earlier.

“It is?” He hadn’t been home, the confusion laced with exhaustion on each syllable. “It is, sorry about that Turner. I obviously lost track of time.”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry?”

“You can call me Y/N.”

“Right. I’m sorry to bother you so late. Please, just get back to me at a reasonable hour.” Hotch sighed.

“He hasn’t reached out to me, for the record. But I will check my email when I get in, in a few hours.” You hummed as you used your hip to close the fridge, instantly regretting it.

“Oh, okay then, sure.”

“Hotch?” You closed your eyes imagining him still upright at his desk, spread out before him the BAU bullpen dark and deserted. “Did you just get back from a case or have you been at it all night?”

“If I said the later would you think less of me?” Was he making a joke?

“Not at all. He gets in my head too.” You confided.

“Yeah, the problem with that is he gets off on it.” He said it like a confession. “Stopping him is the only way out of the game.”

“If only it were that easy.” You huffed. “Listen, Chief, you need to get some rest. I know you’re super profiler man, but honestly, go home.”

“Well, if Y/N Turner says so, I must be losing my edge.”

“Not in the least. I’ll talk to you in the much later morning, Hotch.”

“Sounds like a plan. Night, Turner.”

“Goodnight Aaron.” You set the phone down and took a long pull from the bottle. Your stomach pitching at the turn the conversation had taken and the alcohol. Get your head on straight, Y/N.

Aaron Hotchner set the phone back into the cradle atop his large desk. His watch ticked away on his wrist reminding him of all the lost time he had spent chasing Foyet. Something about Y/N was still bothering him, he glanced at her employment file picture atop the paperwork. She was invested in this case, but something else was drawing him to her. What bothered him was that he couldn’t figure out if it was profiler’s instincts or just unnecessary chemical attraction.

Or both.

@a-unique-girls-heaven @gummiishark @rottendaisies @sunnygubler @lovebodymindstuff @archaic-zugswang @darkheartednerdwithglasses @mikri-oneiropola @princesswagger14 @justwinchesterme96 @profiler-in-training @kennybud @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @conversations-with-you-61065 @dontshootmespence @criminallyyoursdrreid @cynbx @cherry-loves-fanfic @hotchnerfuckmeup @illegalcerebral @omallieallie @creativecody16 @kandii395 @tiny-potato-lives

#Criminal Minds #Hotch #Foyet #smut #Reader x Unsub #infiltrated #CM Fanfic #Hotch x Female Reader #foyet x female reader #violence #blood #dark and twisty

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jasongoldtrap · 3 years

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The Corkscrew

By Jason Goldtrap

March 9, 2021

When I was growing up in the 70s and 80s, my hometown, Nashville, Tennessee, had a musical theme park called Opryland USA. Aside from the standard thrill rides, the park was noted for dozens of shows featuring Country, Rock, Gospel, Bluegrass and Broadway. The king of the attractions was the Wabash Cannonball.

Named after the song popularized by Roy Acuff, the Wabash Cannonball was a corkscrew roller coaster. Ten models were built by Arrow Dynamics, the first one debuting at Knott's Berry Farm in Buena Park, California in 1975. Opryland USA opened their coaster that same year in the State Fair section.

My parents loved roller coasters, and still do though time has tempered active involvement in the subject. As a family we all loved going to the park. I would ride all the rides along with them except for one: the Wabash Cannonball.

From my perspective it was just too intimidating. Even today, I still get fearful around roller coasters which is part of their appeal. I pictured myself flying out of the seat and rocketing into the ground.

As a little kid, with mommy around, I had an excuse to sit this one out. That changed as I matured.

Thirteen-years-old, going to the park for the first time without parents. Lots of running, drinking far too much Orange Fanta, two cardboard containers of popcorn, playing video games that I could already play at the skate center and, well, bodily noises offered for amusement rather than necessity. We could ride the Flume Zoom as many times as we wanted. We'd rear-end antique cars on the guided track where you could press the hammer down with speeds up to 7 mph.

Inevitably though, someone would suggest my foil, the Wabash Cannonball. "Um.... I have to sit this one out." I would flood them with laughable excuses about not feeling well. And, eventually, they would give up coaxing me. I would sit on a bench beneath the second loop and try to wave. They would dart out of the station hyped up on adrenaline.

"Wanna ride again?"

"Yeah!"

I was silent.

They would race back to the station. I would people watch. Head to the petting zoo. Long for a square of Smoky Mountain cashew fudge which I could have eaten if I had not wasted $2 on Space Invaders and Pac-Man. On the third go around, one of the fellows would feel a tinge of sympathy for me and we would move on to the bumper cars or the spinning swings.

It went on like this for weeks until one day when my band of brothers ran into a similar sized group ....of girls.

"Hey Joan!"

"Michael. What are you doing here?"

"Having fun. Who are your friends?"

"Well you know me and Betty from school. This is Rhonda who goes to my church and my neighbor Melissa."

We exchanged pleasantries. Awkward silence seeking cues for conversation.

Michael stated, "We're about to ride the Wabash Cannonball. You wanna come with?"

Joan smiled and nodded. She received a tug from behind. "One second." The girls clutched together to analyze the situation and discuss limits to potential affection. She turned around and spoke for the other hens. "Sounds like fun... except Rhonda here is too scared to ride it."

I got a slap on the back. "Jason will ride with her." Suddenly, the world grew dim as if I was suddenly thrust across time and space. Frozen. Confused. Before my mouth could utter the words, "Well I..." The boys and girls began to pair up.

"Are you afraid of coasters too?"

I confidently shook my head, "No. Rhonda. Absolutely not."

"Let's go!"

We walked the seemingly 2,000 mile long trek from Doo Wah Ditty City to the State Fair. Not much on conversation. Occasional, stolen glances. Evaluation. Rehearsed lines. Hoping my voice won't squeak.

During the 30 minute wait in the sweltering sunshine I actually opened up to her a little. She told me of her life. She liked horses and even once rode an elephant at the Knoxville Zoo. We discussed our mutual fondness for Gatlinburg, Star Wars, volleyball and watermelon. We relaxed and became new friends.

And then it was our turn at the ride. We were too busy talking to realize that we had seats on the front row! I snapped my head to Chris. Hers to Joan. Was this a prank? Did they realize the enormous pressure we had been voluntarily pushed in to? She tried to communicate her concerns via telepathy which is common to females, especially in mating season.

Undaunted, I slid past my self built brick wall of trepidation and took my seat in the front car. She gave a coy smile and gracefully sat by my side. The train lurched forward. Jerk. It connected with chain. During the ascent I imagined a cartoonist scene in which the 85 foot peak of steal and bolts made sport of me with each half a foot rotation.

I prayed. Nothing too elaborate. Just a plea to not throw-up on her. I began to silently whisper "amen" when I felt a hand being delicately intertwined in mine.

The car gently rounded an elevated curve. Before I could say something clever we both began screaming as the floor escaped us as we hurled down at 48 miles per hour. Up a little. Another sharp banked turn followed by a nose dive. The first loop lay ahead. I was too distracted by the gravity of the moment by the hand holding to notice that this acceleration was slugging me into the first swirl. I was upside down and then once more.

"Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Ha ha. Ha ha. Ha ha. That was fun!"

I had stepped aboard a child but now I was a man!

We all clapped and begged for one more go around from the teenage thrill engineer. Maybe there was a lightning bolt from Heaven or she was too busy chatting with a co-worker to notice that she forgot the breaking switch. Jerk. Chain connection. We were going for a coveted and rare second ride!

This time my heart was thrilled and somewhat disappointed that Rhonda removed her hand to clap. And, once complete, did not return to my velvet fingers. But, that was ok. I was having fun.

As we got off the ride the coed group took a break from each other. The girls needed conversation and play-by-play analysis while the guys just pushed each other around.

Rhonda, from a distance, turned my way with a flirtatious grin before her visage lowered as she was told the real story of Jason Goldtrap: the dork. She even looked at her hand and wiped it on her Capri pants. I could see her guffaw, "He picks his nose in public?"

Reunion. We rode a few more rides but that was it for me and Rhonda. I talked to the other girls a little but there was no connection.

The speakers echoed. "Opryland USA will close in thirty minutes."

We disbanded and walked separately to the long line of station wagons. We were three years far from automotive liberation. I lost her in the dark.

I never heard from Rhonda. I never even considered calling her or asking Joan about her. We were two ships that passed in the night... and sunk.

That day I conquered one fear and, for one minute and 28 seconds felt invincible. That is part of the magic of a theme park. Escape. Innocent, affordable fun. Acceptable thrills mixed with surprising spurts of physiological growth.

In 1997, Opryland USA closed and replaced by a mall. I always feel sad for cities that lose their amusement parks. They are losing so much in the way of togetherness, family memories and funny and romantic tales to share with future grandchildren. You don't get that from a mall.

As far as I can tell, there is only one corkscrew roller coaster still in operation in America. It is named the Corkscrew and it's at Silverwood Theme Park in Athol, Idaho.

After the park closed the Wabash Cannonball was sold to Old Indiana Theme Park in Thorntown, Indiana but not reassembled. Sadly, it laid in an open field until it was finally scrapped in 2003.

Thanks to YouTube you can take one last ride. Enjoy.

https://youtu.be/OLtO06SC-Lc

0 notes

aggresivelyfriendly · 6 years

Photo

~Meet Me In The Hallway~ Chapter 7-

On The Road Again

Harry was not going to meet us at the airport. I knew that, was acutely aware of it. It would be beyond stupid for him to come. He would get mobbed. It could cause a scene, and there was no real reason for him to be there.

I hoped though.

I was dead on my feet when I got off that plane. The intervening weeks had seen us on the phone and texting frequently, but I had avoided facetime effectively,Though I'd yawned my way through that last face time with Harry, I had not been able to sleep well that night or the ones that followed. My head had been invaded. Instead of sound sleep, my full imagination put him on a dusty 19040's airstrip in a trench coat and hat. He was made for the 40's. that jaw line should be comitted to cellulose, it was surely imbedded in my brain. I cast myself as his Lauren Bacall, beautifully crying as we said our goodbyes. The scene my dreams conjured was gorgeous, but I hoped it was not prescient. I did not want my relationship, friendship, my whatever, with Harry, to be rife with goodbyes. How little did I know then.

I was tired, and I wanted a bed. But I wanted a bed with Harry in it. That was unlikely to happen, it was 2 in the afternoon and I was fairly certain that there would be something he was supposed to be doing.

It was a long slog to the hotel, with my brother and the boy's complaining enough to get me to do their bidding. They had this habit, or maybe it was my habit they had picked up on, of running from their whining and doing the onerous task they were complaining about. I knew as soon as I got to the hotel, I would be the one standing at the desk, getting keys and hotel room numbers while they all slumped over the couches in the lobby moaning.

I was trying to overcome my own jet lag and not lay my head down on the stand the very perky blonde hostess was standing behind.

"You guys are with the rest of your party. The whole floor is reserved for you," she smiled at me and my brain was so cloudy that I asked a question I would normally not ask, for a variety of reasons.

"Which room is Harry in?" Slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I could see the headlines now. I was internally berating myself and bit my lip hard. If only I had done that before I opened my big mouth. The desk girl, Holly, smiled at me conspiratorially and leaned over the desk.

"He's actually right across the hall from one of your rooms," she extended a key card towards me with a brow arched high. "This one."

"Thanks," I'm sure my voice shook, either from nerves or embarrassment. The two emotions were duking it out in my head and I was now hoping I could stay awake long enough to outlast my brother and knock on Harry's door. He was always just across the hallway. That was too far.

I walked back across the crisp white lobby, everything was pristine and mostly colorless, a collection of ecru and beige and bleached fabrics and woods with the odd moment of color. Bursts of bright cantaloupe and deep pinks. It felt like my life over the last two months. Long days, that should have been exciting, but dragged like my feet on the way to whatever activity we were engaged in, punctuated by odd moments of life and interest. Those moments always coincided with a chime on my phone with a pseudonym for its sender.

"Cmon boys," I walked over and picked up my backpack and thanked the lord above that larger suitcases always found their way upstairs for us and I didn't have to lug them. I'm sure the lazy asses I shepherded would goad me into that job too. I watched them all pull themselves up and gave a moments amusement to the different ways they moved. Some popped up oddly, first by shoulder of knee, like marionettes being controlled by someone else's fingers, others lurched, walking dead extras trying to make it to the object of their hunger, in this case, a soft bed and rest. Only myself and my brother seemed to be half or more awake. He moved past me swiftly and his sprightly stride made me think sneaking off to see harry was unlikely to happen soon. Why was he so excited?

My excitement thrummed through my veins and the heaviness of my limbs had fallen away. Instead, I was alight. I wanted to lay on the couch with Harry and watch him pinch his bottom lip while he listened intently. There was a story I could not wait to tell him. Ashton had lost his balance and fallen ass backwards off a pier, which was hilarious in its own right, but his shirt getting stuck to a post and his hanging suspended before it ripped as he made a sound like goofy on the way down was even better. There was a video somewhere, that I was sure he would see in the coming days, but I also knew that just my description could draw the laugh I loved from him. That burst of energy and sound. I wanted to watch him eat, get a bit of ketchup or whatever condiment he was favoring off his chin, or wait for him and watch him come in sweaty with clothes clinging from a session with Mark. He said in a text they were boxing and that caused an unfamiliar twitch in regions of my body mostly dormant.

Most anticipated, was climbing into the big fluffy bed all of these hotels had and facing him. His eyes would get puffy as sleep crept up on him. He'd try to maintain a conversation with me, and then all at once his eyes would be closed and his lips would fall open and his soft exhales would be snores. When that happened, I allowed myself the pleasure of really looking at him. Harry liked me Fine, I think, but, I doubted he was as invested in every mood of my face the way I was of his. In his drowsy state, I could admire the curves of his shoulder and the way his collarbones were highlighted with black ink. I'd trace his swallows with my finger tips, never touching, a hairsbreadth separating me from his warm skin. He was so warm when he slept, and he'd allow me to skim my feet onto his calves to warm my always freezing toes up. Harry would scoff and yank back a moment before he brought his legs back to me, an offering. He'd hold his breath the second time until my toes had connected. The sigh that came out of me then would draw a smile from him that I could never help but return.

Those nights, where we touched each other before he fell under were my favorite. We'd smile like we shared a secret, and then Harry would talk, and his hands would occasionally find my own. He'd play with my fingertips while he talked about his mom and Gemma. Telling me stories about dressing up and putting on shows, how being someone else felt so different from having to perform as himself.

"Do you think of the guy on stage as yourself?" I'd asked one night, we were really close, my breath must have brushed over his lips. We were laying in the dark, and the moonless night meant I felt more than saw him. Maybe that's why he was holding my hand, so he knew I was there. The darkness seemed to open the lock on his lips.

"He's me. Well, a version of me mixed with Freddie Mercury, maybe Mick, though I've grown to hate that comparison—-"

"It cracks me up that you refer to Rolling Stones by first name." I chuckled and our lips accidentally brushed. I don't count it as a kiss, but it was more thrilling than any other press of mouths i'd had before.

He inhaled deeply before he continued, "he's just a guy. Like me, you call me by my first name," he laced his fingers in between mine.

"Do you still feel like just a guy under the lights?"

"Not really, no. I feel bigger, at first it's like I'm acting, but then, I get caught up in the rush and all the waves of energy and emotion and I feel bigger, stronger, Fuller. I don't always know the things I say, it's kinda like sex in that way." He laughed at his comparison before tensing his fingers between my own, as I was suddenly rigid. "Sorry, didn't mean to be gross."

"It's not gross, I just have never experienced that," I tried to explain my discomfort. The darkness did not offer me the courage it did him. I still had things I couldn't share. "Never had an experience where I lost control and liked it."

"Is that why you don't drink often?"

"One of the reasons," I shrugged and the wrinkle of the pillow we shared made a soft sigh.

"You could let go with me," his voice was hesitant, and he smoothed our hands up out of their lock until we were palm to palm. "I got you."

"Yeah," was my reply. I knew I was safe here, with him. The only thing I wasn't safe from was my feelings, growing by the hour, minute, second. With every touch we shared and nocturnal secret emitted.

Those were the moments I wanted to go back to, the long hours of night when he was wired from a show and waiting to sleep and I got to hear him talk and watch him breathe. Those were the moments I was hoping to have more of.

My Motley Crue of puppets and zombies made it to the elevators, behind me except for the unusually peppy brother at my side. If adulthood was all about delayed gratification, it looked like today would be formative. I wasn't sure where Harry was or when I'd be able to sneak to him. Would my heart gallop in anticipation all day? I'd be exhausted surely, the beat in my chest was closer to a club banger than a slow jam. If my heart kept this up, I'd feel like I'd run a marathon.

My ticker sprinted to the finish line when the elevator opened and the 1D boys were standing waiting for it. A cry went up, lots of "oi, oi's" in a variety of accents.

My eyes were only for Harry though.

I had been in the front of the pack, just off center, staring at the off white barricade where it met at the center seam. The slide of the door revealed a mop of chocolate swirls and his head popped up too, his slightly too large eyes of moss met mine. Everyone behind me rushed out and bro hugs and shouts and back pats were exchanged. I stood and stared at Harry, until the doors started to close and he pulled from the arms around him, Luke's from the ink, to slide his hand into the closing crevasse. The doors tugged back and his hand closed around mine.

My face was hot and the breathe I took after 30 seconds of holding it was audible as he pulled me through the doors into the hallway and his arms. My left shoulder notched into his right arm pit and the loose tank top he was wearing meant my skin touched his. I exhaled big and shivered.

"Hey Melly," his breath moved my messy hair and I worried about what I smelled like. I figured I would be waiting hours to see him and that that time could include a shower. I wouldn't take it back.

"Hi Harry," the smell of his neck invaded my nostrils and I moved my nose back and forth against the warm summer skin of his neck. He clenched me tighter and I brushed my lips against him, accidentally I told myself.

He was pulled from my grasp and the welcomes continued until one of the boys minders, Paul, I think, reminded them that their car was waiting. I looked up when my boys headed down the hall and the other group moved towards the elevator. I started to hitch up the backpack I had dropped in the rush when a familiar hand found mine, the calloused tips, casualty of learning guitar, were something I had memorized.

The hard plastic slid between us, a drug dealer would be proud. "You look tired," his eyes glanced over the smudges under my eyes. "Get some rest."

I watched the doors meet again and found myself standing in the hallway long enough that the group that left had probably made it to the lobby, maybe to the car. I thought about what my pack had in it and thanked my self for thinking to have everything I'd need for a night away stashed there. If my brother was awake, I didn't want to draw attention to my packing, if he was asleep, I did not want to wait for my bags to make it upstairs.

"Would you sit the fuck down!" Michael exclaimed later. "Jesus, people are supposed to be tired after long flights, you are fucking vibrating." He ate his burger and glared at me.

"Why aren't you sleeping then?" I snarled back and sat across from him on the arm chair.

"Because my stomach was growling loud enough to wake the dead, let alone keep me up." He gestured to my untouched plate. "Are you not hungry?" His hand settled on my bouncing knee. "Quit," he grit and pointed to my plate.

I pushed the food around and ate a few fries. I was to anxious to eat.

The longest hour of my life later, my brother stretched and belched after finishing his beer. "I'm going to bed. Go to the gym or something, calm your ass down, Yeah? Tomorrow's busy."

I knew he was right, but I waited until his breathing steadied before I gathered my things and went into the shower. As I washed, I thought about Harry's boy smell, fresh from his shower — redolent of his bed time routine, and his hair as it brushed my cheek when he pulled back. He looked happy to see me. Absentmindedly, I washed my hair, and when I realized I was using body wash instead of shampoo I scoffed and pulled my head out of the fog.

I wiped the mirror and saw the dark bruises beneath my eyes. I didn't cover them though, I hoped to go to bed and now at least I was clean. I threw on some comfy shorts and one of the t shirts I had secreted away after the UK leg. My bag on my shoulder and his keycard in my hand, I tip toed across the hall. It was quiet, the 1D calcvacade was out and most of my group was asleep. I let myself into his room feeling as anxious as I had since we got off the plane. I worried my thumb ring until my skin was red.

His hotel room was empty, but his things were spread around. A guitar on the couch, the detritus from breakfast and a hoodie over the arm chair. I sighed, it felt like home. I made my way into the bedroom. The pillow smelled like his neck had and I was asleep before my head fully hollowed the pillow.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #meet me In The Hallway #mmith #chapter 7

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dukereviewsmovies · 5 years

Text

Duke Reviews: Chopping Mall

Hi, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Where We Continue Our Annual Monsterween...

With A Really Bad Slasher Film, I Call Chopping Mall...

I Was Originally Thinking About Talking About Killer Clowns From Outer Space But Since The Happy Death Day Movies Were A Mix Of Slasher/Sci-fi And Comedy I Decided To Not Do It This Year And Instead Make Up For The Lack Of Gore And Blood In Those Films With This Film...

Now, Let Me Ask You Something, With A Name Like Chopping Mall What Would You Expect?

Oh, And Don't Bother Writing Your Answer In The Comments Because I Already Know Everyone's Answer, You Expect A Guy Who Looks Like Jason Voorhees Going Around A Mall, Butchering Unsuspecting Teens...

But No, The Person Who Made This Movie Thought...

(Person 1) "Ha! Who'd Want To See That? No, Instead Let's Do Killer Robots Who Gain Sentience During A Thunderstorm And Decide To Kill Teens Inside Of A Mall During A Late Night Party"

(Person 2) "Late Night Party/Orgy"

(Person 1) "Well, It's The 80's And You Can't Have A Slasher Movie Without Sex, So Why Not"...

But Is This Film As Horrible As I'm Making It Sound? Let's Find Out As We Watch Chopping Mall...

The Film Starts With A Film On The Secure-Tronics Protector 101 Robots Which Is The New Security System At The Plaza Park Mall To Which Their Creator, Dr. Sam Simon Is On Hand To Answer Questions Concerning The Robots...

youtube

(Start At 2:00, End At 4:35)

We Get A Title Card As We See The Goings On At The Mall...

Yes, That's Nice, Oh, Look They Got A Scoops Ahoy!...

youtube

(Start At 1:44, End At 1:52)

During The Credits We Also Discover That Roger Corman's Wife, Julie Corman Produced The Film...

Oh, I Guess That Explains Why There Are So Many Roger Corman Movie Poster Along The Background Of The Next Scene...

And It's In This Scene We Start Meeting Our Fodder For The Killer Robots Starting With Alison And Suzie (Played By Scream Queen Barbara Crampton) Who Work At A Barbeque Joint But As Suzie Puts It Tonight They're Going To Have Good Times To The Max...

However, Alison Doesn't Want To Show Because She Doesn't Know Anybody Despite Suzie Telling Her That After Tonight She Will, This Probably Leads To The Worst Piece Of Acting In This Film...

Wow, Was It Too Much For You To Put Emotion In That Line, Sir? Did They Not Pay You Enough To Say That Line The Right Way? Or Did You Just Think Eh, No One's Going To See This Movie, So, I'll Just Half-Ass It So, I Can Get A Paycheck...

Meanwhile, While A Storm Is Going On, Lightning Hits The Control Center Causing Alarms To Go Off As The Robots Gain Sentience, Killing The One Man In The Control Room...

But As That Happens We Meet 3 More People On The Robot Killing Fodder List, Named Ferdy (Not Fergie) Mike And Greg Who Are Using Ferdy's Uncle's Store For The Party Tonight With Beers On Hand And Suzie Setting Ferdy Up With Alison...

Meanwhile On The Other Side Of Town 2 More People On The List, Rick And Linda Have Engine Trouble Which Linda Manages To Fix, Most People Believe Them To Be Married But Me, I Don't Think So Because They Mention About Using Their Wedding Money To Fix Their Automotive Business So, That To Me Tells Me They're Not Married But They're Trying To Do So, But I Don't Know If Anyone Has A Definitive Answer For This Write Me In The Comments...

Meeting Our Last Victim In This Movie Leslie At A Clothing Store, She Runs Into Her Boyfriend Mike Who's There To See Her Despite Her Father Being There As They Tell Him That They're Going To A Birthday Party For Suzie Tonight Which I Don't Think He Believes But He Buys The Story Enough So They Can Continue Making Out...

With Alison's Dad Giving Her Permission To Go To The Party, Suzie Is Ecstatic As They Head On Over To Ferdy's Uncle's Store While Another Control Room Attendant Gets Killed By The Robots...

With The Party Underway, Everyone (Except Ferdy And Alison Who Are Introduced To Each Other By Rick And Suzie) Drinks Beers, Dances And Makes Out...

With The Protector Robots Going On Duty, The Teens (Except For Ferdy And Alison Who Are Watching A Roger Corman Movie) Do One Of The Things You're Not Supposed To Do In A Horror Movie...Pork...

youtube

(Start At 1:01, End At 1:07)

Meanwhile, A Janitor, Portrayed By Joe Dante Regular, Dick Miller Mops The Floor Only To Get Electrocuted By One Of The Robots...

youtube

(End At 1:15)

At Least It's A Better Kill Than How You Died In The Terminator...

His Character Was Also Named After A Character He Played In A Corman Movie Entitled A Bucket Of Blood So, I Guess They Were Honoring Him...

Out Of Cigarettes, Leslie Sends Mike To Get Some But Not Before Offering Him Some Incentive To Hurry Back...

Eventually Finding A Vending Machine, Mike Is Confronted By One Of The Robots Who Asks Him For His Identification But As Mike Shows It To Him, Giving A The Day The Earth Stood Still/Army Of Darkness Reference...

youtube

(Start At 0:57, End At 1:03)

It Tranquilizes Mike Only To Kill Him Off Screen (Don't Worry We See The Body Shortly) Wondering Where Mike Is, Leslie Gets A Shirt And Underwear On To Go Look For Him, But Eventually Finding Mike, Who's Throat Was Slit by The Robot...

Confronted By One Of The Robots, Leslie Gets Chased By It As It's Lasers Fire At Her Eventually It Hits Her In The Back And On Her Butt Before Taking The Killshot By Blowing Her Damn Head Off...

With Everyone Watching Leslie Die, The Robot Along With Another Robot Break Into The Store To Go After The Others As They Fire Lasers At Them, Eventually Making It To The Back Storeroom, The Main Mall Doors Are Now Barred Until Six Am And With The Robots Placing Dynamite On The Door To Blow It Open, They Have No Choice But To Separate With The Girls Taking The Vents While The Guys Take The Emergency Exit So They Can Get Some Weapons To Take Down Those Robots...

With A Robot Approaching, The Guys Try Firing Shots At It But Unfortunately All Their Bullets Bounce Off Of It Which Forces Them To Roll In A Propane Tank So They Can Blast At That To Blow The Robot To Kingdom Come, They Manage To Succeed But It Was Only Enough To Deactivate It For A Short Time...

Meanwhile In The Vents, Suzie Quickly Becomes The Worst Character In This Movie Because She's (Acting Like Suzie) Gotta Get Outta Here And She's Gotta Find Greg Because He Needs Her..,

Bullshit, You're In A Safe Place Get Out While You Can! Honestly, Why Do You All Love This Woman When She Plays A Character Who's An Idiot?!?

So, Getting Out Of The Vent, The Girls Land In A Hardware Store Where They Decide That If They're Going To Fight They Might As Well Go Prepared So Grabbing A Few Small Quarts Of Gas, They Molotov Cocktails So They Use Against One Of The Robots While The Boys Set A Propane Tank Trap On The Elevator For One Of The Robots To Fall Into...

With The Robot The Guys Deactivated Coming Back On-Line, Another Robot Starts Chasing The Girls But As They Hide Behind Planters, Alison Throws One Of The Molotovs At A Robot Only For It To Walk Right Through It...

Making A Run For It The Robot Starts Firing It's Lasers At The Girls As The Guys Try To Find Them But When Suzie Gets Hit In The Leg, The Robot Fires At The Molotov In Her Hand Which Sets Her On Fire, Killing Her...

Honestly, When People Are On Fire In Horror Movies Why Don't They Stop, Drop And Roll Instead Of Screaming Your Head Off Like A Moron Before You Die Either That Or Run For The Nearest Lake Of Water?

With The Guys Arriving, Linda And Alison Manage To Get Away While The Guys Hold The Robot Off But Eventually Reaching The Elevator, The Robot Goes In While Everyone Attempts To Fire At The Propane Tanks On Top Of The Elevator With No Luck But One Shot From Alison And Kaboom! Both The Elevator And The Robot Go Down...

(Imitating Rod Serling) The Next Time You Check Yourself Into Your Neighborhood Malls Elevator Be Sure You Know Exactly What You're Getting Into Otherwise You May End Up A Permanent Resident Of The Twilight Zone.,,

Hiding Out In The Restaurant Where Alison And Suzie (When She Was Alive) Works, We Get A Small Scene Of Character Development I Guess, Before Ferdy Tells Them That The Robot's Master Computer is On The 3rd Floor And If They Blow It Up, It'll Shut Down The Robots...

But When They Try To Go To The 3rd Level, Greg Goes Up The Escalator Only To Be Thrown Over The Railing By One Of The Robots

To His Death...

But As They Try To Make A Run For It To Another Escalator Another Robot Confronts Them Which Forces Them To Take Shelter Inside Of Another Store...

Taking An Escalator Inside Of The Store To Level 3, One Robot Tries To Laser His Way In While The Other One Goes To Level 3..

Relaxing, For The Moment They Come Up With A Plan To Use The Mannequins As Bait While They Shoot At The Robot...

No, Wait You Might Hit Kim Catrall!

Oops!

Firing His Laser At Them, They Eventually Reveal A Few Mirrors Behind The Mannequins Thus When The Robot Fires At The Mannequins It Causes One Of The Laser Blasts To Fire Right Back At It...

(Robot) Malfunction, Malfunction, Need Input...

But As The Robot Begins Firing Crazily One Of The Blasts Hits Linda, Killing Her, Mad About This Of Course, Rick Boards A Vehicle And Rams It Into The Robot Blowing It Up And Electrocuting Rick At The Same Time...

So, With Ferdy And Alison Being The Only Ones Left They Decide To Go Find That Computer By Splitting Up To Try To Find It, But As Alison Goes Down A Long Corridor, She Enters A Room Full Of Junk Only To Be Confronted By One Of The Robots, Ferdy Comes To Alison's Rescue As She Screams And Knocks Out The Robot's Laser...

Chasing Ferdy, He Tosses A Fire Hydrant At The Robot When He Runs Out Of Bullets Only For The Robot To Toss The Fire Hydrant Right Back At Him Supposedly Killing Him But..

youtube

(Start At 0:43, End At 0:51)

With Alison As The Only One Left, She Loses The Robot Inside Of A Pet Store Only For It To Find Her Again Once She Get Out But Climbing Down Only To Fall On A Tent, She Heads Toward A Paint Shop Where She Dumps A Bunch Of Paints And Thinners So She Can Lure The Robot Inside So She Can Blow It Up With A Flare She Got From The Hardware Shop And...

youtube

(Start At 1:38, End At 1:59)

It Works!

So, With The Robot Gone, We Discover That Ferdy Is Alive So, Him And Alison Can Live Happily Ever After And Get Our End Credits...

And That's Chopping Mall And Well, It's Bad But It's Good Slasher Fun...

I'm Not Going To Lie, Folks The Acting In This Is Horrible And The Title Is Definitely Misleading But The Kills Can Go From Dull To Freaking Awesome And Because Of That I Say See It And To Have A Nice Day While Doing It...

Until Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

#chopping mall #horror #horror Movies #Movies #movie review #happy halloween #barbara crampton

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welp-here-i-write · 7 years

Text

Town of Salem Shenanigans (Not Red on Whitestone, My Apologies)

Preface: @ceridium and I were playing Town of Salem, naming ourselves Kima (me) and Allura (@ceridium). I got the role of Retributionist, so we acted it out in character. And then she had to leave mid-game, and things got...interesting (and by interesting I mean heart-breaking). So we decided to write it. Kima’s POV is written by me, and Allura’s is written by @ceridium.

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

Lady Kima of Vord -

I hate those idiots sometimes. I have been working too hard with Allie in Emon recently ever since the fall of the Chroma Conclave, and yet here Vox Machina has decided that they “deserve a vacation”. Newsflash, you awful people, heroes don’t get “vacations”. Vacations are for people who can afford to take vacations and not run the risk of the world falling while they’re away. People who don’t run the risk of, oh say, just for an example, going for a small trip to the City of Brass and the Fire Plane for some fancy shit, then coming back and realizing almost the entire group of people that they had massed were being wiped out and my girlfriend had been rendered a fate worse than death.

But don’t worry. That totally didn’t happen. Ever. At all. AT. ALL. Anywho, the adventuring party seemed to deem it fit to go relax in the Feywild due to Percy’s almost forgetting about it and Keyleth’s ever-growing childlike curiosity. Yet, of course they found a massacred town within the Feywild and separate letters mentioning the locations of similarly fated towns should no one intervene. And, of course, they decided that they wanted to continue to relax and sent the locations to myself, Allie, Gilmore, Cassandra and a few other names I didn’t recognize. So now instead of assisting Emon, me and Allie are heading to a small town within the last few floating islands of Draconia. We scried upon it, yet came to no visual at all. So now Allie is forced to merely teleport with the exact address and location in mind.

As she begins to prepare her spell components, her eyes begin to glow with mystical arcane energy. And I can’t help but stare. In this one moment, Allie has never been more beautiful. She has never been more fantastically surrounded by her perfect blue arcane energies or more perfectly framed by the circle around her. I love her. So much. Thank Bahamut for everything that has occurred for us to be together again. She means everything to me. I feel the ring that still resides within a pocket in my armour. The ring that Percy helped me obtain from the best artisan in the planes. Synokier or Cenokir or something like that. It was imbued with a magic energy by Gilmore that should protect her in a time of need and is connected to an identical one that I have begun wearing on my finger. The one on my finger supposedly could even bring Allie back if need be, as long as she is wearing it.

I still can’t believe Vox Machina. We were going to head to the forest nearby Emon, to an old clearing that we used to relax in and eat lunch. And we were going to reminisce about the older days with Drake and -. The others. About how much simpler everything seemed to be. And I was going to propose. But, I guess I could wait until after this run, as it should just take a few days, and be a simple search and destroy. I’ve waited this long.

Allie’s eyes clear and she looks at me. “You ready? I think I found a good spot with basic arcane searching.” Her eyes are still a bright blue, a tad of arcane energy still staying within her eyes. And her smile - it always catches me off guard. It’s gorgeous.

“Yeah.” I reply. She takes my hand and I feel the flux of magic course through me, now familiar with as many times as we’ve had to travel recently. It’s so exhilarating. We suddenly disappear from the Prime Material Plane, Allie’s hand the only anchor to anything as everything goes black and we then land on our feet, meeting the hard ground as we both fall to our knees. I get up and look around, realizing that we are standing on a rather small floating island. The grass is green and completely covers the island, and a ring of houses, what I assume is the town, is in the center of the island. A cobblestone path extends from each house and into the central area, where an elevated platform sits. Allie stands up, hand on her head.

“Kima, I don’t feel quite right. This feels much too like the Ziggurat in Whitestone. I can’t seem to summon any of my magical energies. I’m sorry.”

I look to her, trying to meet her kind and worrying eyes with reassuring ones. “It’s ok. Let’s go investigate that town, eh?” I wink at her and start trudging along towards the small area, looking behind as Allura starts to follow. Man, I really do love her.

<<<<<<<< Break 1 >>>>>>>>

Allura

I continue to try and cast minor spells, but the arcane energy fizzles from my fingertips before it can have any effect. That certainly makes things more difficult. I look to Kima, who I can tell is doing her best to keep her tough, unbreakable demeanor, though a slight bit of something else comes through. She covers it up by puffing up her chest, and throwing her Holy Avenger behind her shoulder. It’s adorable when she does that. She tromps along towards the odd little town ahead, and I follow behind. She looks back occasionally, and quickly puts her vision forward again with an almost guilty look.

From what we know, this place has had strange reports of conflicts between its residents. No one has been able to leave, or at least not alive. The magic in the area is immense. As we enter the town, a resident, dressed in very odd black and white garments, directs us to two adjacent homes where Kima and I could stay. The resident does this without an introduction, and without asking who we were. Very strange.

‘“I don’t like the look of this place, Allie..” Kima mumbles, keeping a firm hand on her Holy Avenger.

“Me neither. But until we figure out what’s going on, it’s probably best to just play along.” She nods. The sun sets oddly quickly across the horizon, and we retreat into our separate homes. As I turn to get into bed, I see a dark, shadowy figure dart across the room. I try to prepare a spell, with no effect. The figure rushes across again, and I feel a painful burning in my head as my vision flashes white, and I feel myself hit the floor before it flashes to black.

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

“Allie, wake up!” A strange voice meets my ears as I’m shaken awake. My eyes shoot open as I see a small armored woman standing over me. She hugs me tightly.

“Oh, you’re alright! I found you in the middle of the floor, and I was worried something happened to you.” The woman says, relieved about something.

“Wha- Where am I?” I ask.

“What do you mean? We’re in this weird town Vox Machina sent us to.”

“Who’s Vox Machina?” The woman’s face drops.

“Oh no. No no no. What’s your name?” I try my hardest to remember, but I can’t.

“I don’t know.” She takes a second to gather her thoughts.

“Just…just stay close to me, ok?” The woman helps me up from the floor. She looks devastated.

“Who are you?”

“My name- my name is Kima. Yours is Allura, but I call you A-Allie.” She chokes up a bit.

“That is a nice name. Did I do something, Kima? You look upset.”

“No. It’s nothing,” Her sadness is instantly replaced with toughness. She takes my hand and leads me outside, into a town with a ring of houses around a central platform. I study Kima’s face as she leads me. Dark complexion, a large scar across her eye, and the look of a badass. I can feel a tugging familiarity in the back of my head, but I can’t make the connection. Kima. The more I study her face, the more I realize just how stunning she is. The way she holds herself, her strength, her attitude….it’s incredibly impressive. I don’t remember who she is, but I already know I’m in love with her. Hopefully I can still make her happy.

The other people in this town are standing on the edge of the circle surrounding the central platform, and yelling at each other furiously. In one of the spots where a person would be standing lays a body with a smoking wound in its forehead.

“He did it! I KNOW he did!” One man shouts.

“You’re just trying to get him killed!” Another yells. One person shoves another up to the central platform.

“Hey, what the hell?! I’m innocent, you guys!” The person, a woman, yells.

“Sure you are! Guilty!” Half of the whole town echoes that last word in sync. It’s unnerving. Someone hops up to the platform, and Kima and I watch in horror as they fasten a noose around the woman’s neck and hang her in front of the whole town. Kima pulls me in a little closer. Suddenly, the whole town retreats to their homes in perfect synchronization, and we do our best to play along. We both open windows on the side of our houses and lean out to talk to each other.

“You saw that, right? They hung that woman!”

“I know. It was horrifying.”

“We need to get out of here. This is more Vox Machina’s line of work.” Her expression told me that wasn’t the real reason she wanted to get out of here. Either way, this place seemed like it could get dangerous for the both of us really quickly. I go to sleep, careful to keep my eyes open as long as possible before allowing myself to pass out.

<<<<<<<< Break 2 >>>>>>>>

Kima

I sit alone in my room, the silence dragging on for what feels like hours. Allie is sitting in the adjoining room, last I saw her with a confused look upon her face. A continual confusion. I still have no idea what’s wrong with her, and I don’t dare risk the ring, just in case it may not work. I can only use it once, and I’ll be damned if I try using it when it wouldn’t even apply to this situation. But still, the thought lingers in my head. The idea that the love of my life sits completely unaware of what is going on, hoping to one day remember or be of use tears my heart to shreds. I feel my resolve slowly start to crack as that thought strikes me. I can’t help but to let a few tears loose. It’s too much.

Allie, the most perfect being I’ve ever met, rendered useless yet again. I love her too much and could never stand to live without her. As I continue to reflect on the night, I find my eyelids getting heavier and heavier, not responding to my resistance as sleep takes hold of me.

I wake up, feeling as though only seconds have gone by, yet as I look out the window, I see the sun out and grab Allie as I see everyone begin to walk out of their homes. We both quickly run out, me leaving my armour and Holy Avenger within the room. While standing and witnessing the looks from everyone as they see two more dead bodies, I see Allie’s eyes suddenly widen.

Where once her eyes were dull, almost glazed over, they are now filled with intelligence and I see the same sharp wit return. She looks to me with sudden recognition, and while the others begin to shout at each other, she runs to me and grasps me around the waist, giving me the largest hug that I’ve had in a long while. There are tears in her eyes, and I feel the searing wetness within my own begin to take form.

“I love you.” She whispers. I look back, feeling a surge of emotions take over me. I look back at her, tears steadily streaming down my face.

“I love you too, and I swear to any deity that is listening, if you ever. And I mean ever. Do that to me again Vysoren, I will fucking kill you.” I can’t keep a straight face, instead my eyes simply continue to cry and my voice breaks. Then her eyes widen as she looks at two people whispering. Her mouth moves with the one’s speaking almost simultaneously. “Um, Allie, you ok there?”

She turns to me and shakes her head. “Um, yes. That certainly was new. It seems that I have regained some of my magical abilities, but only the ability to hear other’s secret conversations.” The group continues to argue when a man, different from the previous one yells something inaudible.

I observe the rest of this town as they mutter their agreements and another man shouts out, “Burn the bitch then, eh?!” I look at the woman he is pointing towards, her small and innocent looking form cowering in fear. I am about to speak out for her when I feel something indescribable stop me. I let them bring her up to the dias and yet again, we hear the screaming of the agreement, “GUILTY!”

I almost feel a tear shed at the innocent life, when I realize that as she is tied to a stake, she screams out a single phrase, her innocent demeanor now gone. “I would’ve watched you all burn!” She releases as suddenly the flames catch her body. Her screams echo through the night and I turn and walk away, towards the home, not noticing that Allura’s eyes widened as her mouth continued to move, my name escaping her lips, along with the words “kill” and “tonight”.

<<<<<<<< Break 3 >>>>>>>>

Allura

“The bitch is finally dead. We’re gonna kill Kima tonight, got it?” The words echo through my mind. They thought they wouldn’t be heard. What am I going to do? I pace around my room. My magic is extremely limited here. I don’t believe I can teleport us out, and none of my damaging spells are functioning properly. I was lucky to overhear the plans in the first place.

My mind fills with images. Of Kima falling to one of these people’s strange weapons. Of her eyes rolling back into her head. Of her body covered in blood. Of her watching me with a look of disappointment. The thoughts alone nearly bring me to tears. I can’t let that happen. Whatever it takes. I won’t let that happen.

I shake my head. Think of a plan. Maybe I can find one of their weapons. Their weapons. They resemble the ones that Percival has, but are much more advanced. I’ve never seen Percival’s weapon take someone down with one charge before, but these weapons can. It’s much more terrifying. After thinking it over, and finding no suitable solution, I start to hear footsteps from outside..

Oh, gods. Being brave is more Kima’s forte than mine. But I have to try. I leap from my window and through hers as the assailants burst through her door. I spot a grin on Kima’s face as she draws her Holy Avenger. The townsperson raises their weapon. Kima’s grin turns to horror as I use all of my strength to shove her to the floor in the corner of the room.

“Allie!-”

BANG!

The weapon fires, a flash of fire-like light bursting from the front as I feel immense pain course through my chest. I look down, and notice my robes quickly turning red in the area. I drop to one knee, trying to catch my breath as the assailant gets ready to fire again, and look over at Kima, still on the ground. She’s ok. It’ll all be worth it if she’s ok.

<<<<<<<< Break 4 >>>>>>>>

Kima

I grunt as I suddenly smack against the floor, the sound of a loud thunderclap going off above me. Where Allie was. I look up and see her grasping her chest, her white gown is slowly turning into a red and pink one. Oh no. Allie. I grasp my Holy Avenger in my hands as one of the people begin to drag her body towards the outside area. So that’s how the bodies were always in perfect position. Well they aren’t taking my Allie. Not while I have anything to say about it. I will make them all pay.

I take up my Holy Avenger, charging towards the man closest to me. He raises his weapon. I can tell when he’s about to fire, I can feel Bahamut’s blessing soaring within me. As he slowly pulls what I assume to be a trigger similar to that of a crossbow, I feel my body move on it’s own, impossibly fast. I jump to the left, not stopping my run. I hear his gasp of surprise as I raise the blade, a blue flame completely flying from my blade. “Not like this Allie! I’m coming for you!” I crash the blade down, aiming for his ribs. The blade feels no resistance as it slices cleanly through his body. Suddenly, the forged wings that form the handle of the blade glow even more radiantly, and instead of angel wings turn into those of a blue dragon’s. I feel Bahamut’s strength and aura around me as I continue for the next man. The man carrying Allie is just in front of him.

“FOR BAHAMUT!” I roar, leaping towards his form. He pulls his trigger and I feel the impending projectile as it hits my armour, slowly piercing. Then, just as soon as it’s about to pierce my skin, I flare with another burst of radiant energy and the projectile is turned to ash. I come down with a cleaving swing aimed to split his skull.

It hits it’s mark.

“FOR ALLURA!” I hit the ground and take another swing as I see the final man brandishing a weapon much more complex looking than the others’. He looks at me as my tear-stained eyes glare back at him.

“Hm. You pose much more of a threat than I anticipated. Nonetheless, I guess that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself.” He eyes me yet again and I take my final jump, the Aura of Bahamut searing my flesh as the heat becomes incredibly intense. Burn you disgusting motherfu-.

I crash to the ground.

The sword goes flying the other direction as I roll, a new type of searing pain within my abdomen.

I look up at him, eyes filled with anger and seething hatred.

“Anywho. My business is done for the night. Feel free to take your own life, it’ll be much faster than this. Goodnight.” He says calmly, wiping his weapon before sliding it into his coat pocket. He walks away, heading for the house opposite the center. And as he leaves, I look towards Allie.

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

Allura

Kima pounds her fist on the ground, and yells out, trying to mask the pain. I clutched at my chest. Kima painfully crawls her way over to me. Every grunt she made on the way over was agonizing to me. She does her best to sit up, and holds my head in her lap. I can feel my energy fading me. She puts her hand on my wound, and tries to heal it, with no effect.

“No. NO! WHY ISN’T IT WORKING?!” She screams.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Kima. I failed you again.” I say, failing to hold back tears.

“Don’t say that. This isn’t over yet. You’re gonna get out of here, you’re gonna tell Vox Machina how much of an ass they were, and you’re gonna be fine-” “Kima. Be realistic.” She glances down at her once-magnificent armor, which now has a hole blown inwards, only tearing her wound apart more. I look down at my hands, now trembling. I fail to even attempt a spell.

“Don’t leave me, Allie. I love you too much.” Kima says. Her strength is broken. Her heroism is gone. The tear tracks on her face reflect the moonlight, and only emphasize her gorgeous eyes. Kima. The beautiful. warrior who’s everything I’m not. Yet, in this moment, she breaks down. Because of me. I put my hand on her wound. Maybe I can…no. Nothing works here. I grab the edge of her armor and use the last bit of my strength to pull myself up and kiss her. I feel her arms grab me tighter than ever. I open my eyes, and the image of her face blurs. I’ll miss her so much.

“I love you-” I get out, before the last bit of my energy fades, and my vision goes dark. I’ll see you soon.

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

Kima

No. No. No. Nonononononononononono. “Allie.” I whisper. “Allie, Gods damnit say something. Allie.” My voice cracks and I can’t take it anymore as soon as I feel the body go limp. My Allie. Allie. She means the world to me. I can’t have her leave now. We were going to go back to Emon.

We were going to go back to the clearing within the woods just outside the city. We were going to be together.

We were going to be together forever. I had the ring made. THE RING. I look frantically through my pocket, trying to reach for it as my arms become more and more sluggish. Then, I feel something. I feel a small, round metal object. The ring. I pull it out and look at it with awe and joy. I reach for Allura’s hand and as my shaking fingers try to place it on her own cold ones, I almost drop it. I put the ring on Allie’s finger and begin to focus my energy into the ring.

I put everything I have left into it. I pray to Bahamut for anything and everything. For Allie to be ok. And as I open my eyes, I see the ring, dormant on her finger. Of course. No magic works here. No magic.

I realize with a sudden worry that there is nothing I can do. I hold her hand in mine and just let the rest of my energy flow in the form of tears. She’s gone. And that’s all I can think about. I lay down her head upon the ground, then follow suit, laying next to her. I look at her closed eyes and for a second I can almost believe that she really is just asleep. That this is merely the ruins of some tower she found near the clearing and she wanted us to investigate it. That we found nothing, but as nightfall came, she pulled me down to the ground with her and just asked a simple question.

“Kima, will you watch the stars with me?” I looked into her own eyes and just smiled.

“Of course.” We sat here for hours, just witnessing the beauty of the world, and as I turned my head just now, I saw her sleeping face. She is beautiful and ethereal. I want the fantasy to be true do badly. I want her back. But that doesn’t matter anymore.

I look down at my own wound as I lay with her. It hasn’t stopped bleeding. I sigh, looking into her eyes. “Allura, I love you. I just wanted you to know that, ok? I love you so much. I guess we’ll be seeing each other sooner than I thought. Goodnight my love. I will not break my vow. I will stay with you… all our days…” And I let the darkness take me.

Fin -

#critical role #lady allura #allura #lady kima #kima #kimallura #town of salem #I loved collaborating with ceridium so much #First time ever #anywho #enjoy

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Starting in the mid-1970s, nevertheless, the population increased significantly. The facility of companies in nearby Plano and Richardson made Murphy a commuter neighborhood for these 2 cities. In 1970 there were 136 homeowners reported in Murphy. That figure had actually increased to 1,547 in 1990. Couple of pointers of Murphy's early prime time stay; one structure still in use is the First Baptist Church of Murphy, constructed in 1901.

The school building functioned as a neighborhood center in 1987. A school structure which housed elementary and high school students was built in 1938 as a WPA job. When it closed in 1950, the schoolchildren moved to Plano. Later on, people refurbished the school structure, which ended up being the Recreation center, Station House, and Town Hall.

Wisniowski. Later, the City Hall and Fire Station were moved to a brand-new complex throughout the road, leaving the old structure to be refurbished as the Recreation center that resumed in February 2012. Murphy is thought about to be part of the humid subtropical region. The city of Murphy embraced a Home Rule Charter in 2003, and the power of the city is vested in a council of chosen individuals who regulate and legislate and select other officials, such as Things To See In Murphy the City Manager, who heads the executive branch.

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Scott Bradley was chosen Mayor in 2017. Mike Castro is the City Manager. The Murphy authorities department negotiated with "Dateline" in 2006 to permit NBC cam teams to tape-record stings of supposed Web sexual predators and to let people employed by "Dateline" in fact set up and run the sting.

The Plano ISD section of Murphy is served by the following schools: Primary schools (separate presence boundaries): Boggess Grade School (Murphy) Martha Hunt Elementary School (Murphy) Miller Elementary School (Richardson) Middle schools (different attendance boundaries): Armstrong Intermediate School (Plano) Murphy Middle School (Murphy) High schools: Previous to the opening of Mc Millen, The Wylie ISD area of Murphy is served by the following schools: Primary schools (different participation borders) Harry and Retha Tibbals Elementary School (K-4) (Murphy) Don Whitt Elementary School (K-4) (Wylie ISD, located in Sachse) Secondary schools Draper Middle school (5-6) (Wylie) Raymond B.

% ± As of the Latino of any race were 4.94% of the population. There were 1,030 families out of which 82.7% had children under the age of 18 living with them, 83.8% were married couples cohabiting, 2.9% had a female householder with no other half present, and 10.8% were non-families.

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The typical household size was 2.73 and the typical family size was 3.18. The median age for homeowners in Murphy is 33.9 (this is younger than the typical age in the U.S.). Families (non-single houses) represent 88.3% of the population, giving Murphy a greater than average concentration of families. In the city, the population was spread out with 29.7% under the age of 18, 5.1% from 18 to 24, 37.8% from 25 to 44, 20.5% from 45 to 64, and 5.0% who were 65 years of age or older.

For every single 100 women, there were 100.5 males. For each 100 females age 18 and over, there were 100 males. By 2019, the average family income had actually risen to $146,779, and the typical earnings for Continue reading a household was $147,818. The average earnings for guys was $86,601 and the median for ladies was $61,221.

The 4 zip codes of Collin County that contribute to the county's affluence are (in descending order of average household income/year): 75093, 75024, 75025, and 75094. [____">citation needed] ^ ^ id=" cite_note-6" > .

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Noted above are the very best locations to live in Murphy, TX for 2019. The list of best places is assembled using the Location Vibes Livability Rating which is computed from a score out of 100 and based on various categories. These classifications include: facilities, cost of living, criminal activity rates, education, employment, real estate and weather condition.

To personalize the list of best locations to reside in and around Murphy, TX, you have the ability to very first select the search radius, which is the optimum distance you 'd like to browse for neighboring cities or communities. Next, you can pick to show cities only, communities only or both cities and areas.

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You can then set the value of each classification based on what's most important to you. Lastly, you can set your home/rent budget based on what you're comfortable spending on real estate or rent. Once your search choices have been set, you will have your personalized list of the very best places to reside in Murphy, TX.

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Limiting the swimming pool of after-school activities is an obstacle. Discover the advantages of each, then take our test to find the ideal fit. Check out More

Dallas is the eastern, bigger half of the Dallas-- Fort Worth "Metroplex." Dallas is what the majority of people consider when they first think about Texas-- huge, busy, growing, cosmopolitan, abundant, glitzy, and sure of oneself. Lots of gleaming downtown skyscrapers tower above the level plains, while a variety of areas and rural commercial centers sprawl in all directions around the city core.

cities. Long commutes prevail, thanks to the large population, growth rate, and urban spread, but many do not commute to the city itself. A rapidly developing rail-transit program is helping to cope, however Dallas is practically as "motor city." Above all else, Dallas is a center for corporate America.

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Also contributing are the beneficial company climate, the availability of educated employees, and the unmentioned idea of remaining in the center of all things huge. Although there is little oil produced in the immediate area, Dallas' development started with the east Texas oil boom, and petroleum continues to be a large consider the regional economy.

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- The elevation for Murphy is 581 ft (177 m)

- Murphy is located in Collin County, Texas

- The population of Murphy as of the 2010 census is 17,708

- Murphy is bordered by Plano to the West

- Murphy is bordered by Sachse to the South

- The median income for a Murphy household in 2019 was $146,779

- The Murphy zip code is 75094

- Murphy is served by these high schools: McMillen High School, Plano East Senior High School, and Wylie High School

- About 4.7% of the Murphy population live below the poverty line

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