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vaccerelli · 1 year

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Pill The Consumer went up in a jolly big roar of fire and steel and you heard the dogs barking along with it. There went the things that made memories fade back underneath the proper rage of it all. Razor Prime, your second in command, pounds the wheel of the murderous continental, drunk on the promise of inevitable night sweats and convulsions. Wired all wrong, the Prime is, but good scuffle like, real good gun go bang like. Never handles a razor, though. Something from his childhood, he says. Means before the clouds and sea and sky came and went and the fire was everywhere. Who knows what inriders call it now. Out on the ruined verge, we call it the last war.

It’s still going. I’m the captain. Redemptorius Scar. I took it after the blood rebirth. And the scarring. Been fighting in the war ever since.

The Chaos Saw is ours — big war desert train. Gunships left and right. Corsairs on their grinding, vibrating hover jets, bouncing off the sand. Verge boy splatter. Real blood money. Fucking oil slicks mad with corpses. Games of abominations. Us too We’re the Lost Hybrids. We bleed oil and blood together. Part metal. Scarred pure with our machines.

Another run through the blood gulch just outside one of the ammunition canyons. Hidden in the mines beneath the gulch are squib-bikes, hive-jets, pitiful three-wheel railgun tanks — measly parts. Poor eating. Meat spoiled by time in the caves, closer to the rot. Hybrid parts. Still a man’s stomach.

The convoy draws down the ammunition canyon together, tight in formation, wind shrieking past. Collection sails beneath the corsairs catch a rhythm and begin to collect the elements to make gunpowder. Conversion tools in the belly of the corsair will immediately synthesize gunpowder, automanufacture bullets. Big risk, ammunition canyon. But necessary. Squib-bike jumps early. I call to Imperilious Hound, who opens fire. The squib-bike detonates in mid-air before his round draw near, red painted metal blowing to pieces. Watchguts up in the spectacle parlor starts his howling. New convoy coming up. Full battle status. Corsairs begin another collection, start dropping lower to pass down more ammunition to the various vehicles around the war train. I see the flags through old lenses. Full battle status. Independent convoy looks like. This far out verge ways? Probably hood scalping. Nearby warlords closer inroads to the core pay good money for scrap. No questions. Blood and piss and shit wash off. I draw my revolver. It has some kind of shit that plugs into my arm. I become the gun — the gun that is Redemptorious. Through my sight I see the command rider. Old car. Barracuda modified to sit on top of giant wheels, several turrets and ballistae added. Something about the hood warsign is familiar. Independent convoy. Hood scalping.

We both open fire at the same time, nearly. Bright yellow rocket fire howls merry like past my head. All the guns in my car open up screaming. I’m screaming. All us scumbag crazy war pig fucking dead rag hybrid boys are fucking screaming. It’s the fucking end of the fucking world. Just keep firing. The command rider’s captain comes into view, aiming a crossbow out of a rotating turret. Her finger goes hesitant with recognition.

I stop firing when she stops firing. We both shoot off truce flares at the same time. The vehicles take awhile to settle down, same as tempers. Hoods still hot with jetting life. Painted in entrails. We get out of our vehicles. Step onto the hard pack desert. This can’t be real. She’s got a face tattoo of some kind of devil. Horns across her cheeks. Scars. God, so many scars.

“Robert,” she says, voice all rasped up with dust. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Hi, baby. It’s been awhile.”

She gestures to the two idling convoys. A fight has already broken out. I gesture at my neck, then at one of the fighters. Razor Prime rips the boy’s head off.

“It’s been since the fucking world ended.”

“I was there, too.”

“Don’t make the end of the fucking world shout you,” she says, rolling her eyes. This is familiar. Pill The Consumer kept these things down. Buried. Under the blood and the violence and the fucking splendor of war. Everything nothing. Here she is again.

“You’re Redemptorious? Do you have any idea...shitty! It’s shitty! You’re so dumb.”

“I killed a guy named Oculus Cutterus outside of...maybe St. Louis? After that, when the Wicked & Wise of Honored Sisters gave me a blessed scar on the cobalt ruins, I...”

“Shut...Robert, shut the fuck up. You’ve been fighting in the fucking dumbass road war for all fucking fifteen years now? Like, the whole time? You’re in one of the religions!?”

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newjust · 2 years

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Hexio level 22

HEXIO LEVEL 22 SERIAL

HEXIO LEVEL 22 FULL

Fuller Hexion Mitsubishi Chemical Shinetsu Daikin Panacol-Elosol GmbH Production by Region North America Europe China Japan Consumption by Region North America United States Canada Europe Germany France U.K. Nitto Denko Corporation Lintec Corporation Saint-Gobain Dymax Corporation Hitachi chemical DELO Industrial Cyberbond LLC Toray Industries ITW H.B. We always have, since 1952.Global Electronics SMT Adhesives market Size, Insights and Forecast 2020 to 2025 Latest Innovations & Application Analysis with the key players - Henkel 3M Tesa SE Dow Inc. Robertson Trading Post 117 Front Street PO Box 365 Henderson, Tennessee 38340 We Buy, Sell, or Trade. Phone hours 8:00 – 5:00 CST Mon - Fri CST. We do not pay transfer fees or return shipping. 7 day money back on used, no return on New Items, layaway, or ammo. FFL ok by fax, e-mail or mail, please ask your dealer to put your name and Gun Brand on there. We accept MC/Visa/Discover/USPS MO paid orders shipped ASAP. Don’t let your buddies use your account, that kind of thing smells like felony level straw purchase attempt. $15 lower 48 $40 Alaska, Hawaii or Puerto Rico, USPS Priority, insured with Delivery Confirmation. Not transferable to civilian residents of California, Illinois, District of Colombia, Hawaii, Maryland, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Oregon, or any jurisdiction with a Melt Law or Approved Firearms Roster. We’re offering this distinctive Argentine Revolver for only $ 169.00. We estimate this revolver has been fired fewer than 200 times, all with standard velocity ammunition. Blast effect to the frame top strap is minimal, only a faint etchy line with no depth. Double action pull is 12 pound vicinity, and the single action pull is a stiff but crisp 6 pounds with minimal overtravel. Lateral play to the cylinder is minimal with the trigger relaxed, and negligible with the trigger fully depressed. Cylinder times correctly with hammer movement to spare in all six positions on both single and double action. Bore, cylinder chambers and mechanism are all bright and clean. We rate it as Good, 70 percent vicinity by our estimate, but photos ought to suffice for our shoppers to judge finish grade for themselves. Surface detractions are moderate to extensive, principally surface streaking and scouring. This revolver comes to us from security duty in New England. Overall length is 8 inches, with a height of 5 1/2 inches. Weight empty is 32 3/4 ounces with center of gravity at the trigger. Finish is glossy anodized and bright blue. Grips are round butt type finger groove combat, original factory. This revolver is clearly marked on its frame, Do Not Use +P Ammo. 38 Smith & Wesson Special Caliber ammunition. Cylinder is steel one piece, and holds 6 rounds of standard velocity. Front sight is shroud integral raised ramp on solid rib, with a shouldered white outline blade rear sight that is windage adjustable.

HEXIO LEVEL 22 FULL

Barrel is two piece 2 7/8 inch 1:18.75 six groove left hand, inside a full lug alloy shroud that is pinned into the frame. Construction is steel inner barrel, cylinder, trigger, hammer, and internal parts assembled into a lightweight zinc alloy frame and barrel shroud. Its lines and mechanism show heavy borrowing from the High Standard / Dan Wesson design revolvers. Type is traditional double and single action revolver with swingout cylinder and internal transfer bar safety device.

HEXIO LEVEL 22 SERIAL

From this specimen’s 98000 range serial number, we estimate it was manufactured in 2001. US Importation only ran from 2000 until 2002. Description: Here is a distinctive revolver from Argentina, the Rexio RJ38.

#Hexio level 22

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lowlascl · 2 years

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rz-rosszogg · 2 years

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Tomorrow UK households are set to get a doubling in energy costs per year. From about 1,250 British Pounds a year ago, from tomorrow that bill per avarage household will increase to 3,600.. That's about $5,000 Aus. But that's just one single bill to a household..on top of that, everything else is subject to constant increases from over 10% inflation, which is expected to continue to rise. Inflation is almost the worst economic evil that a country can acquire.. because it goes up easily and quickly but never comes down easily and quickly, even when governments and institutions throw the kitchen sink at it. It's has the most stubborn character of all economic ills.

The naked truth about today's western economic downturn and ills, is set in sanctioning Russia. It turned out, as many prominent economists warned at the time of starting these impositions, that sanctions never work, and always backfired badly. But no influential western government listened.. Rather, they created a much worse environment, blowing out of all proportion anti Russia, anti China Propaganda.. all sitting on fear, hate, vanity.. selfish self centred obsessions driven by the fact that the west had lost control and top spot in our world, by constant Hypocracy and lack of respect towards their own publics and other countries.

Even today, as Britons brace for their own economic survival, the outgoing British PM, Boris J, just arrived back in London from Kiev, where he promised the worst war criminal Zelensky, another package of weapons, costing over 87 million pounds. Any british citizen, with any sense knows, that this is borrowed money, to be paid back by the public, twice after adding the interest and fees. It's money that every British household needs badly now, in order to help survive the huge self inflicted economic damage their government created.

Much of all western donations to Zelensky's regime are stolen for private use. Most importantly, Zelensky lost the conflict a long time ago. Any new donations weapons and ammunition do, is increase the suffering and death of people in Ukraine. Most western weapons get destroyed within two weeks of first use.. It's like burning money in an oven.

Zelensky is a rat, hiding in deep Kiev hole, and knows himself that his cause is lost..so now, following White house orders, he tries to inflict terrorist type attacks, to kill as many Russians as possible..But for what purpose..? Noone knows.. oh, but perhaps to make Russia make peace.. hahaha...We see the most rediculous statements by western secret services propaganda..like, 9,000 Russian troops killed, etc.. when the true figure is much, much lower, no more than 3,500..and these figures cant be hidden, as the families of these dead soldiers have counted their loses, continuously..all, still support the Russian aims, even more so, as they say.

Zelensky doesn't have an army anylonger.. It was destroyed systematically, and now all he has are terrorist type military formations, which hit and run away. The Russian policy and initial military aims of Ukrainian demilitarisation and denazification have been achieved. What we see now is the brocken and dispersed bits of what Biden thought would underpin a Ukrainian Nato military. Russia would never allow that.. that's why it went in and put a stop to this mad neocolonial idea. After it sweeps Ukraine clean, Russia will rebuild a new much better and proper Ukraine.

All things in the world now are connected, so back to UK: Outside large UK cities and towns, most Britons use heating oil, or naphtha, for hot water, heating, and other energy needs. A small barrel of oil now costs about 400 to 500 pounds..a huge increase, more than double, since most naphtha and oil products in Europe and Asia comes out from Russia. British people report that this warm summer they didn't use hot showers, nor bought heating oil, because it's mostly unavailable, or when available they can't afford it.. but in summer one can have quick cold water shower.. However, with very chilly European winter coming soon, Britons are bracing for a new lifestyle, one without hot water and candle lights..if still available. The rest of Europe is in similar desperate situation this coming winter, without any practical solutions in sight for the next 3-4 years. Soon, western governments will start to crack.. and not long afterwards all will fall and be replaced by 'clean hands' from anti Russia, China attitudes and policies.

Don't expect accountability.. Don't expect Truth.. Don't expect meaningful help, from any of today's western governments. These people have dug a deep dark hole and have sunk in it.. They can not come out from it alive.. The best hope for the public, are future leaders..distant from the western anti Russia anti China Propaganda policies of today. Hate and Fear..creates wars, never lasting Peace and humane critical thinking.

Nothing describes the desperate economic situation in Europe, better than Macron's visit to Algeria, a couple of days ago .. begging the Algerians for help with energy, especially gas. Algerians have been colonised, murdered in cold blood, and treated as slaves by French imperialism for a long time..they can never forget that recent past. Only last year Macron said some very disrespectful things against Algeria. Yet now.. desperate with cap in hand he begs them for gas. That puts western attitude in a nutshell.. Totally Hypocritical.. Totally Barbaric.. Totally Mad.

#world #uk #economy #europe #france

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defcorpsecuritycompany · 2 years

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iravaid · 3 years

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Hi do you have any headcanons about Mercurio? He's one of my favorite vtmb characters with Lacroix.

Mercurio!!!! Love that dude, one of Two people the fledgling can actually trust in the game and he's just some guy.

Once again, the usual shtick of these not being set in stone and neither am I implying these are the only interpretation of Mercurio. Would love to hear others’ headcanons of Mercurio, he’s v fun

headcanons below the cut

5′10″ with a fairly average build. But has very nice hands. Ghouled in his mid-30s.

I feel like being a ghoul has changed his appearance over the decades, and appears Different to mortals. Like there’s something off about him, but you wouldn’t be able to place it if you met him on the street.

Conversational in Mexican Spanish, and knows a couple choice phrases in Italian.

Grew up in New York in the 40s/50s, in the Brooklyn area. Was exposed to the Italian mob at an early age, as his family are Italian immigrants and his father did work for the families in the area in exchange for immigration documents and avoid paying protection money. Because of this, Mercurio has seen to a lot of violence from a young age and it's just. Become something he's used to and expects.

Second oldest cousin (out of 20+), but an only child. Both his parents had large families and neither had the time nor desire to have one themselves.

Started doing jobs for the mob as an in to the organisation as a whole, for the money and work. Turns out to be a very good driver with a poker face that gets past most of the cops that pull him over. Eventually it escalated from getaway driving, to arms and drug trafficking, to guard work, to body disposal, to extortion, to contract killing. A jack of all trades by the time he becomes a ghoul.

Fell out of contact with his family before he was ghouled. Dad died after falling on the wrong side of the Genovese and the rest of Mercurio’s family tried to get him to leave the mob’s service. Mercurio figured he’d be more careful than his old man and continued working for them, at the cost of his mother refusing to talk to him, unless he left the mob.

The last time they talked was in the 60s. She died in the 80s. Effectively estranged from his family long before he left NYC.

Has tried cocaine once, but didn’t like how keyed up and irrational it made him, as well as being surrounded by people who became addicted to the drug. His job is dangerous enough as it is, and Mercurio needs to keep a level head around Kindred and mortals alike. Stays away from most stimulants/mind-altering substances for this reason.

Doesn’t drink much, either. Better to be sober and pass the random breathalyser while running several pounds of .50 calibre ammunition across state lines.

Organised crime is closely tied to Kindred in WoD, while on a job Mercurio was recruited by a Ventrue or Toreador to run guns and do their dirty work that couldn’t be implicated with the supernatural: a fixer.

Becomes something of a ghoul mercenary - will work under a Kindred via contract for a couple years in exchange for their vitae and money. LaCroix is his most recent hire, but he’s worked with the Camarilla itself for decades.

As he’s a ghoul and must still interact with the mortal world in order to carry out the jobs that various regnants and clients need done, he’s accrued a long, long rap sheet for arms trafficking, grand theft auto, murder, contract killing, aggravated assault, vehicular homicide, assault of a police officer, drug possession and trafficking, speeding, and jaywalking. Eventually had to leave NYC to avoid the authorities, as cops were starting to recognise his face.

Obviously has no qualms in killing, we can see that in the game. Has definitely ‘dealt’ with people in the past, either for his own gain or by order of a current regnant/client. But Mercurio doesn’t derive much joy from the murders he’s committed (bar the beach house people), he sees it as apart of the business, and he can’t let himself either revel in it too much, nor let the guilt of killing someone get to him.

Knows the ins and outs of hundreds of different firearms and other long range weapons; including their history, legality, ammunition type, country of origin, military use, mechanics, mods, who favours them, and their drawbacks (recoil, jamming etc).

Prefers to use handguns that are easy to conceal (Smith and Wesson M&P, Colt M1911, .32 Short Colt). But has been known to use knuckle dusters and crowbars on occasion. The former because sometimes he just needs to go fucking hogwild on some asshole, the latter because it can be brushed off as a normal tool.

Modern American history lover, and one of those people who knows too much about the world wars, but not just the weapons: the events and people as well. Can rattle off a pretty comprehensive play-by-play of key events in both wars and the issues leading up to them.

Has connections in the military, mainly with requisitions officers in order to smuggle more specialised guns into LA, like long-range sniper rifles and grenade launchers.

Just knows people: you mention a fence from Mexico, a hitman from Canada, and a smuggler from Brazil, and Mercurio will already know all them and then some. Has probably been to one of their weddings, and the subsequent police raid.

Extremely professional, which is part of the reason Ventrues like working with him, and why he’s survived for so long in such contentious cities like New York and LA.

Deals with the Anarchs on the side for extra cash. Has a rapport with Skelter because neither have tried to fuck each other over with a bad deal, and both know their guns, which leads to some interesting conversations. Respects Nines and thinks Damsel is too zealous.

Probably has a preference for what type of Kindred blood he consumes, with Ventrue being at the top of the list, and Malkavian being at the bottom (feels too much like his first and only experience with cocaine).

Has a dot in Fortitude due to LaCroix’s blood, which is the reason he was even able to drive away from the beach in the first place. I don’t think he was blood bound to LaCroix, as it seems he just got the vitae via blood bag delivery.

I like to think he works for the Voermans after events of VtMB, he’s capable and Therese needs someone to do the dirty work that maintaining the Santa Monica barony requires. Avoids Downtown like the plague.

thank you for this ask! here is some Cursed Mercurio Lore

#god this took weeks to answer im so sorry sdkfhjskhd #caught me at a time of No Creative Drive #hope these are good!#mercurio vtm #mercurio #vtm #vtmb #vampire the masquerade #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #ghoul #ghoul vtm #ask #anon #headcanons #drug mention #cocaine mention #vtmbposting

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shiftyskip · 4 years

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Joseph “Joe” David Liebgott

The Real Joseph Liebgott:

Joseph David Liebgott was born in Lansing, Michigan in May 17, 1915 to Joseph (Josef) Liebgott Sr and Mary. Joseph Liebgott Sr was of German descent, but he was born in Beresztocz, Hungary. Joe’s mother was Yugoslavian, but was reported as born in either Yugoslavia or Hungary I am not sure which one because records show both. On his father’s side his grandparents were Yugoslavian as well. On his mother’s sider, they seem to be from Hungary. His mother immigrated in 1909, Lieb’s father immigrated in 1912.

Below is a picture believed to be his parents.

He was the oldest of his siblings. He has four sisters: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, and Barbara, and one brother, Stephen/Steffen . Both of his parents spoke German, which would later help him during the war. His father worked in the auto industry before they moved.

His family soon moved to California around 1927 and his dad became a barber. He was the oldest of his siblings, one brother and four sisters. He was extremely protective of his younger sisters

Liebgott and his siblings attended Catholic schools. This is where learned how to box and played soccer.

After high school, Liebgott drove a taxi around San Francisco. This career was temporary and he soon attended barber college.

He was also previously married before the war. He was married in July 31, 1933 to a woman named Frances. They had one child, David Albert together on February 27, 1934. But the couple soon divorced within a year, and he was living with his family again by 1940, where he was working on a forestry project. Meanwhile his ex-wife and son moved into her family. Here is Joe and Frances:

He eventually became a barber and this was his career when he enlisted at the age of 26. Liebgott chose the paratroopers to be able to make more money to be able to put a down payment on his parents’ house.

Included is a photo of Joe and his mother

He has a Jewish service card, registered under his mother’s name. But his family denied he was Jewish, stating he was a German Roman Catholic. I’ll attach it below (filtered for safety).

In his draft card he is listed as 5 feet and 5 inches tall and was 109 pounds. He had blue-grey eyes and brown hair.

Malarkey remembers meeting Liebgott on his way to Toccoa where they became part of the original Toccoa men. Liebgott was trained under the harsh command of Herbert Sobel.

Liebgott didn’t talk much about the war, so there will be little but other’s words to put here. This is a photo from 1945 in France.

Right before the jump out of the airplane, he put his barber skills to use and gave a few of the men Mohawks.

He would jump out of the airplanes with the rest of the men on June 6, 1944. He received the bronze star for his bravery at Brecourt Manor, where he worked with Winters and several other men, Compton, Guarenere, Wynn, Lipton, Toye, Malarkey, and Ranney to destroy a German Battery firing on Utah Beach on the day of the D-Day Invasion.

He cut off the finger of a German that he had bayoneted and took the man’s ring near Carentan. At Carentan, Ed Tipper was seriously wounded after clearing out a house with Liebgott. Liebgott grabbed Tipper, yelled for a medic, and told Tipper that he’d be okay. Welsh and Lieb dragged Tipper into the street until Welsh could get him back to the aid station.

After Brecourt, Compton recalls a painful memory with Liebgott in his book, Call of Duty, Compton and Liebgott were patrolling along hedges at dusk. Across the way, in another set of hedges were two men. Both were dressed in German ponchos, one was holding a German gun. Assuming that these men were in fact German, he and Liebgott shot the men. Come to find out, when they checked their dog tags, they were not Germans. They were Americans. They had just killed fellow soldiers in friendly fire.

October 5, 1944. Winters sent a few Youmen out on patrol to take an outpost near a windmill. Liebgott and a few other men (James Alley among them) went with Sgt. Youmen. They sent one man ahead, to look out over the dike. The man spotted German machine guns. German voices approached the remaining boys. Lieb called out for the Youman, as we was trailing behind, only to have grenades thrown at him and the other men. Liebgott got minor wounds while James Alley received 32 shrapnel wounds in his left side, stretching from his face down. They’d run into a company of SS.

Liebgott was known for being rough with prisoners, the fighting that followed the injuries wit the SS company was a prime example of this. After Winters led his patrol to attack these Germans, in which during the fighting they lost William Dukeman, 7 Germans surrendered. The most famous story of Liebgott is as follows, in Dick Winter’s words.

As Winters explains in his book, “Tech/5 Joseph D. Liebgott had been slightly wounded in the arm, but he was ambulatory so I assigned him the mission of escorting seven German prisoners to the rear. Liebgott had earned the reputation of being one of Easy’s best combat soldiers, but we had all heard stories that he was very rough on prisoners. Liebgott was one of Easy Company’s “killers,” so I deemed it appropriate to take a bit of caution. When he heard me say, “Take the prisoners back to the battalion command post,” he replied. “Oh, boy! I’ll take care of them.” In his exuberance, Liebgott stood up and paced back and forth and he was obviously very nervous and concerned. I stopped him in his tracks. “There are seven prisoners and I want seven prisoners turned over to battalion.” Liebgott was highly incensed and started to throw a tantrum.Somewhat unsure of how he would react, I then dropped my M-1 to my hip, threw off my safety, and said, Liebgott, drop all your ammunition and empty your rifle.” There was much grumbling and swearing, but he did as I had ordered. “Now,” I said, “you can put one round in your rifle. If you drop a prisoner, the rest will jump you.””

Liebgott got all 7 prisoners back.

Joe would recover in a hospital in England with Webster, but he was back before Bastogne. Here is the record for that:

Name:Joseph D Liebgott Race:White, includes Mexican (White) Rank:Enlisted Man Admission Age:29 Birth Date:abt 1915 Admission Date:Oct 1944 Discharge Date:Nov 1944 Military Branch:Infantry, Parachute Troops or Units Diagnosis:FirstLocation: Ulna, generally; CausativeAgent: Artillery Shell, Fragments, Afoot or unspecified Type of Injury:Casualty, battle Injured in Line of Duty:In line of duty Type of Discharge:Duty Length of service:2 Year(s), 6 Month(s)

In Bastogne, Winters made him a runner to get away from the tension and constant stress of fighting. One story of his service was outside of Foy is the battle of Noville, he and Earl Hale ducked into a barn and took 6 SS officers prisoner. Outside the barn, a shell exploded. One of the SS officers took this as an opportunity and jumped Hale. He slit Hale’s throat. Liebgott instantly shot and killed the officer. He then killed the others. Hale survived miracuously.

At some point, before the end of the war, Liebgott became first platoon’s interpreter-radioman. This was because he could speak some German. But Webster claimed in his book that the German’s didn’t understand his Yiddish.

He was with Webster when they took Hitler’s Nest. They spent their time drinking Hitler’s alcohol together with a few other men. He was living with Headquarters Company while there.

Of course, the war came to an end and everyone who wanted to was discharged.

Over the course of the war, Lieb was injured 3 times and won 3 purple hearts. He refused one because the wound was “just a scratch”. He would receive partial disability for his wounds.

When he returned home, he disappeared for two years. Eventually he was found living in Yuma, California. He didn’t come to reunions, even when offered multiple times. His father simply told the vets “not to mess with him”.

After the war, Liebgott was a barber for a short time. He married again to a woman named Peggy in 1949. They had eight kids together. Making Lieb’s total children come to nine, although he was mostly involved with the last eight. They lived on a barber’s salary, not leaving much room for fun activities but everyone had their basic needs met. He often only had one day a week off and would take his kids to a Long Beach pike, where they would visit an amusement park.

Liebgott liked to bet on the ponies at the racetrack. Every other sunday, him and his boss would take the boss’ airplane down to Mexico.

He is believed to have never contacted anyone from his days in Easy Company. He just wanted to get away from the war.

The Liebgotts divorced in April of 1969. She remarried, but he never did. He was described as really quiet by his granddaughter.

She states, in Marcus Brotherton’s book Company of Heroes (pages 120-121) “His hands looked like a man who worked with his hands, sunspots all over. He absolutely loved his grandkids. he had false teeth that he flipped out of his mouth and smiled, threatening to kiss us with his gums. He was a tickler. He never held babies over his shoulder...because he wanted them to see everything....He didn’t have a lot of money - I’m pretty sure all he had was his veteran’s benefits...He made all of the bikes for the grandkids by scouring thrift stores for dilapidated bikes. He stripped the bikes down to their frame, fixed and assembled them as good as new. He let each grandchild pick the color of new paint for his or her bike....I always knew the specific foods we were going to eat at his house. He had bite-sized candy bars and store brand soda-pop. There was no drinking water in his house. He always lived in rental houses...”

He was very neat, and keep his house and appearance orderly. However, he was always working in the garage, so the house had black smudges from the dirt on his hands.

However, Liebgott was not perfect. While he hated the Nazis, he was also seen as a bigot, maybe even harsher. Rhonda explained that he threw the n word around like it wasn’t a big deal. He blamed the wrong goings of the world on different ethnic groups. Rhonda started seeing a guy from El Salvador, he asked if her partner “even spoke English?”

As he grew older, Lieb got sicker. He eventually lost the use of one of his legs from a hernia. He was confined to a chair and hated any new technology. He was stuck in a wheelchair, angry when he would hit a cabinet.

Lieb did not talk about his military career until towards his end. He would spend time with his son Jim, watching tv talking about the war during a war movie. He would talk about the war when he was mad, possibly angry at himself for doing a lot of killing and other things that people his age shouldn’t have to do.

In 1992, Liebgott developed a tumor in his neck, near his windpipe that would cause a lot of pain. Jim took him to the hospital on Father’s Day. Shortly later, on June 28, 1992 Liebgott died. He was against a funeral and just wanted to be cremated, so his family did as he wished. They still have his ashes and letters and the Toccoa book.

#Real Life Band of Brothers #real band of brothers #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Where you should be

8. Thantophobia

Today is a crazy and disappointing day in the US. To all my friends, whether in the states or outside, stay safe. 🤟🏼

Genre: Hobi x oc

Warnings: this series contains stalking, blackmail, and similar stressful/fear inducing situations. Also unrequited love, which is perhaps the most terrifying of all.

Word Count: 4.1k

Thantophobia (n.) the phobia of losing someone you love

I have a few poignant regrets in my life. One of them is rejecting Hoseok over a year ago.

The other is sitting right in front of me.

“Why are you frowning?” Jihun asks me as he downs another glass of whine. “I thought I told you that we were celebrating tonight.”

My wine remains untouched on the coffee table before me, and I make to no to drink it. “Get out of my apartment.”

Jihun shakes his head at me, looking disappointed. “Is that really the way to speak to an old friend?”

“In what world are we friends?”

“Do you really not remember me?”

I huff, sitting on the very edge of the couch and trying my best to hide my phone that I’ve set beside me. “You hardly seem worth remembering.”

Jihun’s nostrils flare as he leans forward. “Now the truth comes out,” he coos. “Did you know that I’ve also had a few friends keeping tabs on your boyfriend?”

I freeze, staring at him in disbelief. “What?”

“They’re there right now, actually. I’ve been receiving updates from them all night…” he takes his phone out to glance at the screen, a wide smile playing across his features. “It looks like Hoseok just arrived at home. I wonder where he was? With you, perhaps?”

I find that I’m unable to answer him, too afraid of what’s about to happen next. Jihun seems to know this, chuckling at my reaction as he scrolls through his phone.

“Oh, you know what could be fun?” He tilts his head to the side, almost replicating Hobi’s endearing habit for a moment, putting a dark twist to it. “Answer me, Ha-rin.”

“What,” I whisper. It’s enough for now.

“In my agreement with Bang Si-hyuk, he made me agree to not release any of the photos I worked so hard to collect to the public. He also had a few other conditions, however I was interested to see just how much he stressed that no actions that could lead to physical harm be taken against the two of you.”

My blood chills as Jihun smiles, looking for all the world like there’s no place he’d rather be than right here, threatening me.

“You can’t harm us,” I breathe out, the bite in my words lost in my fear.

Jihun shrugs. “True. But I was never told that we couldn’t have a little fun with Hoseok’s house, was I?” My heart begins to pound as Jihun looks back down at his phone, completely relaxed. “It’s not my fault if he’s inside it when it happens.”

Suddenly I’m seeing red, bolting off the couch and sprinting for the door. “What are you going to do?!” I scream, tearing the door open and staring back at Jihun who hasn’t moved an inch. “What are you-”

“I already did my part.” Jihun says, stretching before getting on his feet. Prowling toward me like a cat, he gives me a toothy grin as he sidles out the door. “Now we just have to wait.”

I shove past him, taking off down the hallway. Barefoot, eyes wide, and panting as I sprint toward the elevator. As I pound the button over and over, I hear Jihun’s voice from behind me.

“What are you going to do about it? Take the bus?” Placing a hand on my shoulder, he gives a contented sigh as the elevator doors slide open almost as though at his own beck and call. “It’ll be too late, by then, darling.” He glides into the elevator, turning around to give me a mock salute before punching the buttons. As the doors close, Jihun frowns at me.

“You should have left him alone, he would have been much better off.”

I stare at the closed doors for a few seconds, my brain short-circuiting as my heart pounds out of my chest. Think Ha-rin, think.

Remembering my phone that I still have in my hands, I bring it up to my ear.

“Do-yun-”

“I’m almost at his house. Stay inside. Hajoon should be there shortly.”

“But-”

“Inside.”

Practically crawling back to my apartment, I’m barely able to open the door before my knees crash into the ground.

I had called Do-yun as soon as I saw Jihun, hoping that he was listening to every word. Clearly he was, but Jihun’s words swirl around my head as I crumble in on myself.

It’s not my fault if he’s inside it when it happens.

You should have left him alone.

We’re celebrating tonight!

I was wrong to defend him in front of Bang Si-hyuk. Now, instead of playing his tedious games of money and photos, I’m on my knees waiting for the headline to cross my phone. I can picture it so clearly in my head.

Jung Hoseok - dead in an explosion

J-hope dead at the hands of love

World star ‘j-hope’ found dead in his apartment - is Sunny behind this?

“Sunny?”

I bolt up to my feet, throwing myself at the intruder. “Get out! Leave!”

Two strong arms trap my arms against my body, and I look up through blurry eyes to see Hajoon staring down at me with a clenched jaw.

Suddenly I’m collapsing against him, sobbing into his jacket as I say the same thing over and over again.

“Hobi…”

“Do-yun was nearly there when I last checked in with him.”

I shake my head. “It’s too late.”

“Too late?”

Jihun’s words plummet into my brain like ammunition. “Too late. I should h-have left him alone. It’s all my- my fault.”

I can feel Hajoon shaking his head above me. “That’s not true, Sunny. Don’t believe what that freak said. He was just trying to get under your skin.”

I go to speak again, but Hajoon’s phone begins to ring. Jumping away from him like I just saw a ghost, I watch as he turns serious, angrily wiping my tears away as though they’ll obstruct my hearing.

“Yes sir...I’m here…” He listens for a long moment, nodding. “Ok. Would you like me to contact anyone?”

My stomach drops to my toes. Hajoon quickly finishes the phone call, turning to see my fallen expression.

“Do-yun said to bring you over to Hoseok’s place.”

My eyes widen. “I-is he alright?”

Hajoon grabs my coat from off the rack and nudges my shoes toward me. I hurry to put them on. “Do-yun is clearing the area for any sign of a threat.”

Not an answer.

“But is Hoseok alright?”

Hajoon opens the door wide for me, giving me a confused look. “Of course.”

♟

The drive to Hobi’s apartment is excruciating. I’ve sent him about a million texts and attempted to call him a couple of times, but no answer.

“You did the right thing,” Hajoon gingerly says. He keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead, but I know that he’s wondering if I’m about to start sobbing again. “You remained calm for as long as you could, and gave us valuable information. If you hadn’t called Do-yun-”

“Hajoon.”

He sighs. “Alright.”

By the time we’re pulling up to where he lives, I’m nearly hyperventilating. As I see his house still in one piece and the lights on inside, I let out a sob of relief.

Hajoon has barely had time to throw the car into park before I’m launching myself out of the car, flying up the stairs and tearing open the door.

Do-yun stands talking with Hoseok, who jumps at my sudden entrance.

“H-Hoseok,” I gasp. “I’m so s-sorry-” I rush inside, running straight to him as he opens his arms.

“I’m ok,” he soothes, shooting Do-yun a concerned look over my shoulder. “Breathe, Rin-ah. I’m ok.”

I shake my head, burying myself into Hobi’s shoulder as I cling to him. “No, this wouldn’t have happened if-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Hobi mutters, already reading my mind.

“But-”

“Do-yun, thank you for coming.” Hobi effectively dismisses the bodyguard, slinging his arm around me and pulling me in farther to the apartment. “Did you need anything else, or…?”

“No, no. We’ll just take one last look at the area and call it a night.”

Do-yun’s footsteps echo around the small common area as he heads toward the door, calling out to Hajoon as he opens the door.

I remain in Hobi’s arms while we listen to their muted conversation outside, shaking like a leaf as Hobi tries to calm me down.

“I’m so sorry, Rin-ah,” he mumbles. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt.”

A part of me crumbles at his sincere words, pulling back enough to look up at him with a sorrowful look. “Hobi, this is my fault. I-I thought that you were-”

“Shh,” he whispers, pulling me back into his arms. “You’re exhausted and in shock. How about you take a shower? I’ll grab some clothes for you.”

I blink up at him. “But I need to go home.”

Hobi smiles softly at me, looking at me like I just asked him why the world orbits the sun. “Stay. Just for tonight.”

Grumbling the entire way to the shower, I watch Hoseok’s every move as he brings me some spare clothes, giving me a fresh towel and instructing me on everything that has to do with the shower, almost as though I’ve never used one before.

I keep quiet, not having it in me to tease him about it right now. Not when I’m still struggling to keep it all together.

I could have lost him tonight.

That’s the thought that keeps me company as I stand under the shower, making no move to do anything else. The white tile I’m staring at laughs as me as I try to calm down, but everytime I close my eyes I’m suddenly back at my apartment, standing barefoot in the hallway and completely unable to help the person I love.

If I can’t protect him, should I even be allowed to have him?

I finally manage to get enough energy to wash my hair and body as quickly as possible, spurred on by the same thought as before. I could have lost him.

Turning the shower off and wiping the steam off of the mirror, I stare at my reflection. My makeup which I forgot to take off before showering is running down my cheeks, making my eyes look just as terrifying as I feel at the moment. Scrubbing hard at my face, I listen to the sounds of Hobi moving about the house. A part of me relishes in the fact that I’m here tonight, with him. Especially after so long of not being able to see each other for more than a few hours at a time. It’s been...over a year since I was last here.

Once my face is shiny and clean, I release a long breath. I’m still on edge, but now I’m starting to feel the exhaustion seeping in. From today’s meeting with its tense atmosphere, to creating the new track and now this, it’s been a long day.

“Hobi?” I call out quietly as I step out into the hallway, hissing at the sudden cold now that I’m out of the bathroom.

“In the kitchen!”

Making my way to the kitchen I glance at a few of the new decorations he’s put up. There’s one small painting in particular that I don’t remember being here before, and I pause to look at it.

“Did you get lost?” Hoseok’s arms wrap around my shoulders as he asks the questions, making me nearly jump out of my skin. He laughs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I mumble, pointing to the painting. “This wasn’t here before.”

“Ah. You haven’t been here in a while.” Pulling me backward, he steers me toward the kitchen. “I made some chamomile. Shall we drink some tea and head to bed?”

“Mmm.”

He chuckles, taking the kettle off the stove. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I watch his lithe fingers as they take two mugs out of the cupboard, the tea steaming as he pours until they’re filled to the brim. Sliding the mug toward me he waits until I’ve grabbed it and hold it in my hands before he turns to clean up.

“I sent Do-yun to your apartment complex to find Jihun’s ex.” Hobi’s back is to me, rinsing off some dishes in the sink as he speaks. “Hopefully she’ll be able to give us some way to find him.”

My eyes widen. “What are they going to do with him?”

Hobi looks at me over his shoulder, his face grim. “Rin-ah, they’re going to arrest him. He’s threatened us openly, and we were foolish enough to think that he’d be satisfied with the money offer. He’s insane. He won’t stop once his pockets are lined.”

Gazing down at my tea, I sigh. “Good.”

Hoseok gives me a surprised gaze. “You were just defending him this morning to Bang PD.”

“I simply wanted him to be handled like a normal person,” I defend. “And this is how normal people should be treated. He’s...scary, and threatening the safety of others. So good. I’m so tired…” I trail off, planting my face in my hands. “I’m so tired of all of this.”

The sound of a stool scraping against the floor alerts me to Hobi sitting across from me. He makes no moe to pull my attention away or make me look at him, instead just opting to be there with me.

“I know.”

There isn’t much else to be said as we slowly drink our tea, staring off into the distance with our heavy thoughts. I wonder what he’s thinking as Hobi’s eyes become clouded with worry.

I don’t get a chance to ask. “You should head to bed,” Hobi whispers into the silence. I nod, slipping off the stool and taking my mug to the sink. “I’ve got it, don’t worry.” He mumbles, gently pulling me away.

“I can wash my dish, Hobi,” I grumble. He shakes his head.

“I know, but it’s my house. Let me wash it. You go to sleep.” We walk down the hallway to the guest room, and the second I enter it I’m drowning in a flood of memories and emotions. If I squint, I’m sure I can see my past self staring up at the ceiling with so much regret.

A glance at Hobi’s face shows me that he’s also remembering what happened the last time we were in this room. For a moment he reverts back to that wounded self, hardly daring to look at me in the eye as he turns down the bed and turns on the bedside lamp. I watch him from the doorway, halfway between a smile and a frown.

“You should be set,” Hobi says with his hands on his hips. “Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

“I think I’m fine. Thank you,” I say, striding over to him wrapping my arms around his middle. I smile softly as Hoseok sighs in relief, running his hands up and down my arms.

“I love you.”

Those three words uttered from his lips are like ambrosia to my senses, and I relax enough to lean up to brush my lips against his. “I love you.”

♟

I’m back to staring at the ceiling. A glance at my phone has me groaning; it’s only 12:30. Why does it feel like I’ve been laying here for years?

Despite my exhaustion, I can’t stand to close my eyes. My heart begins to pound and suddenly I’m breaking out into a cold sweat as I imagine over and over again different scenarios which all have one thing in common: losing Hobi.

It’s when I’ve had a mini melt down for the fifth time that I swing my legs out of bed, feet finding my slippers in the dark. Padding silently to my door, I open it to find the hallway completely dark.

I keep one hand on the wall as I wander about the apartment, trying to find Hobi’s room in the dark. As I round a corner and see a faint light coming out from under his door, I sigh. It looks like I’m not the only one still awake.

I stand outside of his door for too long, contemplating whether I should just leave him alone and go back to bed, but looking back at the dark hallway I find that I’m too scared to turn back now. The thought of Jihun waiting in the shadows to pounce out at me has me gently cracking the door open, peeking inside Hobi’s room.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He doesn’t notice my arrival, keeping his face hidden behind his hands as he takes steadying breaths.

My voice is small as I call out to him. “Hobi?”

Hobi’s head shoots up at my voice, his eyes wide as they land on my figure in the doorway. “Rin-ah, what’s wrong?”

Chewing on my lip like it can save me from embarrassment, I tiptoe into his room until I’m sitting beside him on the bed, clinging to the edge with white knuckles.

“Can I stay in here tonight?”

I didn’t think it was possible for Hobi’s eyes to get any wider, but I’m proven wrong as he slowly nods, his eyes nearly popping out. After a few seconds he finally composes himself, letting out a long breath. “Of course you can. Can’t sleep?”

He sits back against the headboard, gesturing for me to follow. “No,” I admit, coming to sit beside him.

“Come here, I’ll play with your hair.”

I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I lay my head on his lap, my eyes immediately falling shut as he begins to run his fingers through my hair. It’s quiet, the sound of our breathing the only noise as I’m pulled closer and closer to sleep.

My hand curls around Hobi’s free hand, instinctively holding onto him as his fingers dip down to trace the lines of my face. I’m half asleep when I hear Hobi’s low rumble, hardly able to understand what he’s saying at first.

“...had a hard day. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” He traces my jaw, coming up to my cheekbone. “But you’re so brave, Rin-ah. I should tell you this when you’re actually awake, huh? But if you’re somehow listening to me in your dreams, I want you to know that I think you’re so brave. It’s one of the reasons I love you. You’re my brave, beautiful, quick-witted Rin-ah.”

The bed shifts as Hobi slides to lay down on the bed, my nearly unconscious self hardly noting the movement. He keeps me close, his breath fanning my face as we lay on our sides. His finger traces the slope of my nose one last time before pressing a light kiss to my forehead.

“I got that new painting about...eight months ago?” His voice is soft, lulling me closer to sleep. “It reminded me of you. And for some reason I thought that I needed that. I needed to be reminded of what I lost.” He sighs, the sound weighing on my heart. “I needed to look at that every day and remember what I lost so I would know to cherish it if I ever got a second chance.”

The bed dips and shifts as Hobi rolls to his back, maintaining the grip that I still have on his hand and pulling it up to lay on his chest.

He turns off the lamp, delving us into darkness. “I love you. Always have, always will.”

♟

When I wake up it’s not because the sun is up or because my dreams have driven me awake; it’s because somebody’s holding my hand.

One eye slides open to see Hobi lying beside me, back on his side and my hand still wrapped around his. His hair is a mess, sticking up in different directions and his lips form a pout that I think can only be described as adorable.

I’m in the middle of marveling at how wonderful it is to wake up beside him when the memory of the events of last night barrels into me at full speed.

If things had gone south last night…

It’s that thought that has me taking a deeper look at the man beside me, noting the worry lines and remembering how he sat with his head in his hands last night when I came in, looking for all the world like he was seconds away from a mental breakdown. The thought I had last night re enters my mind unbidden.

If I can’t protect him, am I even allowed to keep him?

Looking across the room to the window I can tell that behind the curtains the world is still dark. It reflects my dark thoughts as Jihun’s voice drifts back to me.

“You should have left him alone, he would have been much better off.”

Brushing back a strand of hair from Hobi’s forehead, I feel the tears pricking as I memorize how he looks right now.

“So beautiful,” I whisper.

Slipping my hand from his and watching how he frowns and grabs the blanket in my absence, I get off the bed as quietly as possible.

The rest is easy. Changing into yesterday’s clothes and grabbing my phone, I leave a note on the fridge. I’m nearly to the door when I stop myself.

I have so rarely been selfish when it comes to Hoseok. I’ve always tried my best to remember that everything has a price, and it’s not one that we’re both willing to pay. We’ve worked too hard to get to where we are now to throw it all away.

Saying yes to him a few weeks ago was the most selfish I’ve been, but it was worth it. For a moment, the pros outweighed the cons. So, continuing for a moment longer in that selfishness, I sneak back down to his room, peeking inside to where he’s still asleep.

His back is turned to me, he hasn’t moved from his previous position. Sighing to myself, I watch as he breathes, still in the throes of sleep. Peaceful.

I hesitate a few seconds longer before heading back to where my shoes were kicked off beside the door. Glancing at the painting of downtown Seoul with a bus in the background, I close the door as quietly as possible.

♟

Sending off the text and attached files to Pdogg, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and wince at the weight. Between the backpack and the duffle bag I’m carrying, I’m definitely getting my workout in.

I double check the slip of paper in my hand, hoping that I’m not too late. Announcements are being made over the PA, but they’re not loud enough to drown out the sound of my phone ringing nonstop. I drop my dufflebag to silence my phone, giving an apologetic look to the people around me.

In the end, there was one comment that Jihun made that actually made sense to me.

“What are you going to do, take the bus?”

A dark bus appears in the distance and people begin to line up to board. I join the line, squinting to make sure that this is the right one. When the bus lights up with the words Daegon/Daegu/Busan I roll my shoulders in preparation for the long ride.

Out of habit I keep my head down, praying that nobody here will recognize me from work. If Bighit managed to catch wind of my plans that quickly, I’d be impressed. But I doubt that they’ll realize what I’ve done until later.

If only Hoseok would stop calling me, that would make it all so much easier.

A young man smiles at me as he politely offers to help me with my bags. I let him store my duffel bag below the bus, opting to keep my backpack with me.

Only a few minutes later we’re rolling out of the station. My eyes take in the sights and sounds of Seoul, aching as I see the Bighit building in the distance.

“Where are you heading?” A chipper young girl asks beside me. “I’m going to Daegon to spend the week with my grandma. Are you visiting family?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, my eyes watching the Bighit building until it’s out of sight. “No, I’m moving.”

“Really? You don’t have a lot of things if you’re moving. Where are you moving to?”

I finally get a good look at her, almost laughing when she’s wearing a BTS shirt. Life is cruel.

“Me? Busan.”

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taglist: @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah @diorhoba @eusticenatalie @ddaeng-i-need-help

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memerepositorygt · 3 years

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The Seventy Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries - Pt. 2

Starter Sentences from Schlock Mercenary - [ Pt. 1 ] Feel free to tweak to fit your muse(s)

36. “When the going gets tough, the tough call for close air support.” 37. “There is no “overkill.” There is only “open fire” and “reload."” 38. “What’s easy for you can still be hard on your clients.” 39. “There is a difference between spare parts and extra parts.” 40. “Not all good news is enemy action.” 41. ““Do you have a backup?” means “I can’t fix this.”” 42. “"They’ll never expect this” means “I want to try something stupid."” 43. ”If it’s stupid and it works, it’s still stupid and you’re lucky.” 44. “If it will blow a hole in the ground, it will double as an entrenching tool.” 45. “The size of the combat bonus is inversely proportional to the likelihood of surviving to collect it.” 46. “Don’t try to save money by conserving ammunition.” 47. “Don’t expect the enemy to cooperate in the creation of your dream engagement.” 48. “If it ain’t broke, it hasn’t been issued to the infantry.” 49. “Every client is one missed payment away from becoming a target and every target is one bribe away from becoming a client.” 50. “If it only works in exactly the way the manufacturer intended, it is defective.” 51. “Let them see you sharpen the sword before you fall on it.” 52. “The army you’ve got is never the army you want.” 53. “The intel you’ve got is never the intel you want.” 54. “It’s only too many troops if you can’t pay them.” 55. “It’s only too many weapons if they’re pointing in the wrong direction.” 56. “Infantry exists to paint targets for people with real guns.” 57. “Artillery exists to launch large chunks of budget at an enemy it cannot actually see.” 58. “The pen is mightiest when it writes orders for more swords.” 59. "”Two wrongs is probably not going to be enough."” 60. “Any weapon’s rate of fire is inversely proportional to the number of available targets.” 61. “Don’t bring big grenades into small rooms.” 62. “Anything labeled "This end toward enemy” is dangerous at both ends.” 63. “The brass knows how to do it by knowing who can do it.” 64. “An ounce of sniper is worth a pound of suppressing fire.” 65. “After the toss, be the one with the pin, not the one with the grenade.” 66. “Necessity is the mother of deception.” 67. ”If you can’t carry cash, carry a weapon.” 68. “Negotiating from a position of strength does not mean you shouldn’t also negotiate from a position near the exits.” 69. “Sometimes rank is a function of firepower.” 70. “Failure is not an option - it is mandatory. The option is whether or not to let failure be the last thing you do.”

#Starter Memes #Starter Sentences

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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years

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Planet Earth is Blue- 2

One

AO3

Logan had been a member of the Silver Serpent for a good three years now, three years being counted in earth time with the calendar app on Logan’s phone (which somehow still worked, despite there not being any internet service in space. Logan had yet to figure out why he could still watch YouTube or access anything with WiFi, really).

During his three years, Logan learned quite a lot. In addition to learning a few words in Janus’s language (‘hello,’ ‘help,’ and ‘My name is Logan,’ the only phrases Janus said would really be useful), Logan also learned how to commit crimes in space. It sounded much more exciting than it actually was, of course, since most of the crime Janus and the crew committed was the smuggling of slightly illegal goods. The most valuable thing Logan had learned, however, was how to hack alien technology.

He had always been good with computers, but now with access to technology more advanced than anyone on earth could dream of? He was almost unstoppable. He single-handedly erased all warrants for Virgil’s arrest in three different galaxies, as well as cleaning up Janus’s record.

There had been several close calls over the years, though Janus handled most of them nonviolently. There had only been one occasion where a space cop had gone mysteriously missing out of the airlock. Being aboard a ship with crewmates that had a various amount of arrest warrants on different planets wasn’t perfect, but it sure beat earth. Logan would take aliens over transphobia any day of the week.

The Silver Serpent’s current load was a cargo hold full of Volatum, something Logan didn’t want anything to do with, as it was almost like a narcotic for the Umutu, the species native to Trappist-E and H, as well as a few weapons, all hidden under what they were legally delivering, a plant native to Kepler-62 called ibiryo.

The journey between planets was low-stress, as the only thing they really had to worry about was raiders- Logan had never met them, and hoped that he wouldn’t. But the entry to Trappist-E where they were to drop off the Volatum? The entire process was extremely stressful. First, permission to dock was needed- Janus took care of that part, as captain. Once permission was given, glorified border patrol guards would inspect the ship for illegal substances. This was the part that always made Logan nervous. What would happen if the Volatum and weapons were found?

Logan stood in the hallway with the rest of the crew, as per instructed, and watched the guards look around. Virgil glared at them as one opened the door to his room. It was only Patton putting a webbed hand on Virgil’s back that stopped him from hissing. Roman and Remus looked at each other, giggling at something only they heard.

Janus put a hand on Logan's shoulder and gave a small squeeze. During his time on the ship, Logan found that while Janus wasn’t one to hold long conversations, he instead communicated via physical touch.

“It’ll be fine,” Janus whispered so only Logan could hear. “I’m confident in my abilities.”

Logan gave a subtle nod.

It took an achingly long time, but the three guards that had boarded eventually come back out.

“You’re free to land, Silver Serpent,” one of them waved as they stepped out of the ship.

“Thank you,” Janus nodded, gesturing for the crew to follow him to navigation where they strapped into their seats in preparation for reentering an atmosphere. Going back into the pull of gravity was… an experience, to say the least. It reminded Logan of when he had been on a plane that had to land in the rain- bumpy, jarring, and overall making his insides feel like they had been turned upside down and then crushed with a weight. The first time Logan had reentered, he had been sick to his stomach. But now, after hundreds of trips to different planets, reentry was much more bearable, though still not at all pleasant.

Logan closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, something he found helped. He only opened his eyes once Janus announced, “Gentlemen, we have landed!”

Patton was the first to unbuckle, and he immediately lay down on the floor with his arms and legs spread out.

“I really don’t like that,” Patton mumbled.

“Neither do I,” Logan stretched his arms above his head.

“Alas, it is necessary. Now, we don’t have time to lounge around quite yet. We have to deliver,” Janus helped Patton up. “The ibiryo buyers will be here soon.”

“When will the second customer be dropping by?” Virgil asked.

Janus just shrugged by moving his top set of arms. “Soon. But let’s get to work unloading.”

He ushered them to the cargo hold, where it was Logan and Patton’s job to hand boxes of ibiryo to Janus, Remus, Roman, and Virgil, who brought the boxes out to the dock to be picked up by the buyers.

When the ibiryo was finally unloaded, Logan sat with the rest of the crew outside, his muscles aching. Roman and Remus’s words were muffled by their breathing apparatuses, which they had to use to breath in the oxygen-rich atmosphere of Trappist-E, as they needed nitrogen, not oxygen.

The sunset of Trappist-E was close to that of earth’s sunsets, albeit dimmer, as the sun that the planet orbited didn’t give off nearly as much energy as earth’s sun. The air was thinner, making it a little difficult for Logan to breathe, especially when he was still wearing his binder, but it wasn;t nearly as bad as it had been on Trappist-H, where Logan hard to borrow one of the breathing devices and stop binding.

Janus suddenly stood up next to him and raised one of his arms in greeting to a figure walking towards the now-empty docking area and began to walk towards them.

“Is that them?” Logan whispered to Virgil, who sat next to him.

“Yup,” Virgil replied. “I don’t know who they are, but I’m pretty sure they’re some kind of gang leader. You could probably find out with your fancy computer skills, Teach.”

“Probably,” Logan agreed. “Though it would likely take a lot of sorting through criminal records on this planet.”

Janus and the newcomer walked back to the ship. “Roman, Remus, go get the gifts for my friend here.”

The twins nodded and stood up, hurrying into the ship to bring out the Volatum. The newcomer left their hood up when they spoke to Janus, but Logan could tell they were Umutu- the coarse black fur around their hands gave it away. “I take it that my gift is in good condition?” they asked.

“Of course. Nothing but the best from my crew,” Janus replied.

“Very nice. Still the price we agreed on?”

“Correct. Who would I be if I changed the price upon delivery? A government agent?”

Janus and the Umutu buyer laughed. “Ah, here it is,” Janus took the boxes from Roman and Remus.

“Thirty pounds of Volatum. Twelve guns, twelve cases of ammunition,” the buyer inspected. “It seems to be in order. Let me transfer the payment and I’ll be on my way.”

Janus nodded and waved Logan over to wire the transfer. Logan held out a tablet and typed out a code that would allow the funds to be untraceably deposited into an account Logan had set up for himself- most of the funds were used by Janus without Logan’s complaint, as he didn’t really have a need for the money, though he did purchase a small souvenir for himself after every planet he visited.

Each trinket was put carefully in the drawer of his nightstand, though to anyone else it would look like a drawer full of clutter- a ball of yarn made from a cotton like plant from Roman and Remus’s native planet, Wolf-1061-C. A branch from a tree-like organism from Gliese-667-Cc. It was also comforting to know that the type of shirts that proclaimed “I went to New York and all I got was this t-shirt” we’re not confined to earth’s tourism culture- he had several of those, each from a different planet.

The Umutu took the tablet, typed in a code, and handed it back to Logan with a nod.

“Crew of the Silver Serpent, I salute you,” they said.

“Pissing off authority is what we strive to do,” Janus grinned.

“A noble cause. Now, I will be on my way.”

The buyer left the docks, leaving the crew alone.

“Well,” Logan announced. “I’m going to go to my room and sleep. If you see something interesting in the market, buy it for me?”

“Of course!” Roman replied.

“Definitely,” Janus nodded. “Well be taking off in a few hours, so now would be your chance to go shopping if you want to.”

“Thank you, but I’m exhausted,” Logan walked back into the ship, where he tugged off his binder and pulled on a sleeping shirt before crawling under his exceptionally warm and light blankets on his small bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

He woke to shouting.

Stumbling out of his bedroom, he put his glasses in just in time to see Virgil running past him from the engine room to the front navigation, screaming some untranslatable words at the top of his lungs (untranslatable because there was no English equivalent, not because the translator device refused to translate unpleasant words. He had heard plenty of those streaming from Virgil’s mouth when there was an engine malfunction).

Logan took a moment to realize what was happening before chasing after Virgil.

“Who’s chasing us this time!?” Logan shouted over the clanking of the engines and the scuttle of Virgil’s spidery legs against the cold metal floor.

“The cops!” Virgil shouted over his shoulder.

“Those motherfuckers!” Logan cracked his knuckles as he ran after Virgil.

Logan slid into a seat and began typing at a tablet. “What’s their ship name? I’m going to slow them down! Wait- are you kidding me? They’re using an unsecured network… hold on. Patton, look out the window and tell me what’s happening.”

“They’re still shooting at us! Wait! They’ve stopped! And now- now they’re… flying in circles?” Patton hopped out of his seat to the thick glass panes that served as windows to report what was going on as Logan typed commands into the tablet.

“Perfect! This won't be able to last forever, so get out of here!” Logan told Janus and Virgil.

“Virgil, can we warp?” Janus shouted over the engine.

“Once! Now go go go! Now do it now!” Virgil shouted back.

With a flip of a switch, the crew of the Silver Serpent successfully evaded the law once again, and with shouts of “ACAB, BITCHES!”, they arrived in the Fireworks Galaxy.

Had Logan been on the spaceship equivalent of a cap car, he would have heard the confused shouts of the space-cops as they tried to figure out what had caused the sudden malfunctions in the steering mechanisms and the reason only the left engine was working. But Logan was not on the space-cop car- he was with the crew of Janus’s ship, with the different species he had learned to call his friends, his family, shouting obscenities at the space-cops, as all upstanding citizens did.

“Well,” Remus announced. “Fuck the police! Jan, where are we going next?”

Janus shrugged. “Wherever we want, Remus. Wherever we want. Logan, you pick.”

Logan froze for a moment, not used to the spotlight being on him. He looked out the window at the galaxy, at the nebulae and planets and countless stars, at the infinity that was the universe. He had seen things like this before, of course, but he could never get over the sheer vastness of space.

“Let’s go to that one,” he pointed at a random planet.

“That one it is,” Janus gave Logan a six-armed hug from behind.

In addition to learning how to hack spaceships, Logan also learned that Patton’s and Janus’s hugs were quite possibly the best in the entire universe. Janus’s multiple arms made hugging all that better, and Logan leaned into the taller humanoid (Logan still wasn’t quite sure what descriptor, exactly, that he was supposed to use. Janus wasn’t a figure, as those were shapes in fog or darkness. He wasn’t a man, which was made obvious by the four extra arms and shimmering golden scales. Janus wasn’t just a friend, either. Logan considered them all family, but he did occasionally wish there could be something… more with Janus. So Janus was simply the taller humanoid, as not even Logan had the proper vocabulary to describe him).

Logan watched the galaxy pass by, still in Janus’s protective hug, as the Silver Serpent flew to the planet and had pointed to.

Life was good. Life was happy, even!

Those were words Logan had never thought he would have been able to truthfully say, not when he was back on earth. But now? Now, in space- which had seemed like a far off dream- Logan could truly say he was happy.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides fic #loceit #logan x janus #space au #tw cops mention #tw guns mention

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kendallstewy · 3 years

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The dog pound

The “dog pound” conversations in the club at Tom’s bachelor party are some of the most chilling in the show and I believe they impact to some degree Kendall’s subsequent decision to ally with Stewy and Sandy. In the club, Kendall has been trapped in his own pound in some ways. Logan has ordered Greg to essentially babysit him, Angela has rejected Kendall’s involvement with her art by connecting his last name to something evil (“It’s the name…it’d be like I was marrying Hitler”), and Stewy has offered Kendall the opportunity to be “all the way out” by using both condescending language (“I’m feeling fucking generous”) and then, even when tempered with a soft “please,” issuing an order (“Ken, take the money and get out, please”). Despite finding the offer “not uninteresting,” going “all the way out” would put Kendall on the literal and figurative outside of Waystar to some degree, further tightening the hold other people have over him. Kendall doesn’t seem to perceive this at the time, instead literally following Stewy in order to further the negotiations with Sandy.

Which, of course, is when Roman chimes in. He attempts to assert himself to Sandy, is laughed at and belittled by Kendall, and then the dog pound issue abruptly becomes a very disturbing topic. Manipulation by shame is a prominent motivator: Roman causes Sandy to make an awkward exit as he rattles off details about how Kendall physically caged him as a child. Kendall may not realize it, but he shames Roman in turn by insisting that not all of the details are true and that Roman actually enjoyed being in the cage, that Roman found pleasure in what Roman deems a degradation. When Roman brings the issue to Connor, Connor’s attitude is blasé and matter-of-fact: yes, Roman enjoyed being in the cage, but the dog food was possibly chocolate cake. Connor unknowingly backs up Kendall but then muddles the issue further when he claims that Roman asked Logan to be sent to military school after Roman says that he asked to be sent away as a result of the cage trauma. Both the affirmative (all parties agree that Roman was caged by Kendall) and the uncertain (what exactly happened to Roman in the cage and the fallout) form a thorny path for the viewer to navigate, with the only clear route revealing the truth of how the Roys communicate: by lashing out when accused of causing a scary situation (Kendall), speaking matter-of-factly and objectively about a scary situation caused by a family member (Connor), and the desperation to find someone to back themselves up in that a scary situation both occurred and was scarring (Roman). It all forms a potent cocktail of deep unease. Yes, we knew this family was troubled to put it extremely mildly, but I maintain this is an underrated example of just how deeply they use shame as a weapon – sometimes without probably intending to, which is really quite frightening.

It doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that the last conversation Kendall has before going to Sandy and negotiating the takeover is with Connor and regards the dog pound. Connor says he loves Kendall; Kendall returns the sentiment. Then the conversation almost immediately turns to Roman asking Connor about the dog pound. Kendall asks if Roman enjoyed it; Connor says yes, but that Kendall did too. So much for sibling love in Kendall’s eyes. Connor’s subsequent statement that Logan’s practice was to “punish” the weak dog in the fight by sending him away underscores to the viewer how Kendall has been persuaded into submission all night (even if Greg failed in preventing Kendall from taking drugs). Kendall saying things to Sandy like, “We’ll go fuck my dad together,” “Fuck the rest of my family,” “Fuck local TV, newspapers, parks,” and “Fuck Stewy” feel like him letting off some serious steam accrued during the pressure of the evening. (It might be coincidental, but Kendall also says, “Stewy will follow the money like a dog in a cartoon” – the image of dogs has perhaps taken up part of his psyche.) Kendall’s insistence that he knows the “emotional corporate architecture” of Waystar highlights the metaphorically bloody business he knows he’s undertaking. In a show heavily about blood-related family, Kendall’s ammunition will hurt in a way that affects birth-established ties. It’s the way he decides to break free of his pound and to make sure any talk of him caging any of his family isn’t an insult this time – it’s an act of victory. He’ll have shown his fangs, and the bite will be a glory to him.

Well, we know how that turns out, but the fangs bared at the club is a fundamentally terrifying instance of the show using an animal-related story as the jumping point for the exploration of how human beings are willing to claw at their own kin.

#succession #hbo succession #kendall roy #roman roy #connor roy #stewy hosseini #sandy furness

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ask-de-writer · 3 years

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Will there be more tales set in the SUBMARINE 1812 Alternate History? You bet that there will be!

Long ago, I started to work on it as a novel. The chapters mostly will stand alone as short stories.

This is basically an introduction to the world of the Continental Congress.

An Introduction to the world of

Submarine! 1812

A small wall o’ text for those interested in the background of Submarine! 1812, War Declared! 1812 and other tales that will be posted from that world of Twisted History.

As strange as this story may seem to some, almost every item in it is actually based on real things from the genuine history of our world.

It is real history, given a slight twist.

1.) The submarine itself: In 1800 Robert Fulton built and demonstrated a genuine, working submarine. He developed it under a very generous contract for Napoleon Bonaparte. In tests, it successfully sank every target vessel without being detected.

Napoleon, on the advice of his admirals, rejected the device, paid Fulton well for the work done and freed him to sell the submarine wherever he could. Even though Thomas Jefferson saw the sub in action and made offers for the USA, Fulton tried unsuccessfully to sell it to European navies.

2.) The Continental Congress came close to surviving in that name. It was replaced by the United States as a propaganda name change when the new constitution was adopted.

I have replaced the Constitution with the Bill of Liberties. A major difference in approach to governing is laid out in it. Again, this almost happened. The Constitution concentrates on the Rights of The People, which is not bad.

The Bill of Liberties of the Continental Congress of my tale is based on real documents of the time. Many were concerned that the rights of individuals should be balanced by their responsibilities to the nation.

The tricameral form of legislature as described in War Declared! 1812 was used successfully by the American Natives that most call the Iroquois for 400 years. In fact, if you read the letters of the founders of our system of government, many of them had seen the Native Government in action and strongly favored it. I have adopted that model of government.

3.) Benedict Arnold : Up until his infamous attempt to sell the British the information that could have turned the war, was the single best general in the Army of the Continental Congress. His dissatisfaction with the CC was simple. Money. He was the single richest man in the colonies before the war.

The CC refused to reimburse him for personal expenses amounting to more than 1.5 MILLION pounds. That is not chicken feed today and it was OVER 1/3 OF THE TOTAL COST of the revolution. Out of one pocket. And the Continental Congress refused him the reimbursement of any of it.

Among the incidentals that he financed were THREE complete campaigns, OVER 1/2 of all the cannons used by the combined Continental Armies and ALL of George Washington’s ammunition!

The next time that you think of Benedict Arnold as a bad guy, consider this. Without his spending over 3/4 of his fortune on the war and not getting back so much as a dime, our nation would not exist at all.

4.) The Iroquois natives. They did not like that name, as Lt Tecumseh makes clear. Iroquois is from the Algonquin language and means rattlesnake. I have used it some because most readers would not recognize the real names of the tribes of the Six Nations.

They had a democratic form of government that was over 400 years old at the time of the revolution. It declared neutrality in the revolution but let the individual tribes ally themselves with whichever side they wished providing only that Iroquois facing Iroquois on the battlefield should not fight each other.

All of the tribes individually declared for the CC. Unfortunately, a dissident started the first civil war in Iroquois history. That war lasted two years longer than our revolution.

I have slain the dissident leader by smallpox while he was visiting England, before his revolt could begin. That allowed Arnold to form an alliance with the natives. That alliance, which was tried in real life but failed due to the revolution that they were fighting, brought success to Arnold’s Ottawa campaign in my Alternate History.

As a side note, natives, especially Iroquois, were much sought after as sailors. They were excellent seamen.

5.) The events described in WAR DECLARED! 1812 that led to the Declaration of War are completely accurate history of our own world, down to the names of the vessels and the location of the events.

There you have it. Like I said, a serving of history with a twist.

Due to working on SUBMARINE! as a novel, I have a number of other things set in that world.

I hope that you enjoy it!

#SUBMARINE! 1812 background #SUBMARINE! 1812 #Alternate History #alternate universe

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Friday, May 28, 2021

San Jose Shooting Leaves Eight Dead (CNN) An employee of the Valley Transportation Authority (VTA), a public transit operation in San Jose, California, went to work as usual early Wednesday morning at the VTA maintenance and dispatch rail yard. But that morning, he brought a gun and opened fire, killing at least eight coworkers and wounding others, one critically, before committing suicide. Around the same time as the shooting, a house in San Jose that is believed to be that of the shooter erupted in flames. Investigators are looking into the gunman’s motive. This mass shooting is the 232nd incident so far this year in the U.S. in which at least four people were shot.

U.S. drivers to get hit by soaring pump prices over Memorial Day holiday (Reuters) U.S. motorists will see the highest gasoline prices in seven years when they hit the roads this Memorial Day weekend, the traditional start of the summer driving season, as fuel demand surges alongside coronavirus vaccination rates. Retail gasoline prices are at about $3.04 a gallon on average nationwide, the most expensive since 2014, data from the American Automobile Association showed. And after a year of lockdowns to curb the coronavirus pandemic, tens of millions of American road-trippers are expected to be stung by those prices: More than 34 million Americans are expected to take to the highways between May 27 and May 31, AAA expects, an increase of 53% from last year but still down 10% from 2019.

Less defunding? (WSJ) One year after the movement to “defund” law enforcement began to upend municipal budgets, many American cities are restoring money to their police departments or proposing to spend more. In the nation’s 20 largest local law-enforcement agencies, city and county leaders want funding increases for nine of the 12 departments where next year’s budgets already have been proposed. The increases range from 1% to nearly 6%.

Competition, not engagement (Bloomberg) The U.S. is entering a period of intense competition with China as the government running the world’s second-biggest economy becomes ever more tightly controlled by President Xi Jinping, the White House’s top official for Asia said. “The period that was broadly described as engagement has come to an end,” Kurt Campbell, the U.S. coordinator for Indo-Pacific affairs on the National Security Council, said Wednesday at an event hosted by Stanford University. U.S. policy toward China will now operate under a “new set of strategic parameters,” Campbell said, adding that “the dominant paradigm is going to be competition.”

Poll shows Argentines expect inflation to hit 50% in next year (Buenos Aires Times) Argentines’ expectations for inflation over the next year hit a record, as government price controls have failed to tame elevated food costs. Argentines’ expectations for inflation over the next year hit a record, as government price controls have failed to tame elevated food costs. Prices rose four percent or more in three of the first four months this year, prompting the government to extend some price controls and temporarily ban beef exports. Alongside concerns of no economic plan, the government’s money printing last year to finance Covid-19 social spending is also fueling expectations for elevated inflation in 2021.

Relations in the ditch (Nikkei Asian Review) The European Parliament has voted overwhelmingly to freeze the ratification process of an investment pact with China—a deal that Beijing six months ago considered a big strategic victory. It has sent shock waves throughout China, with only one month and change before arguably the most important event in President Xi Jinping’s era, the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party’s establishment, on July 1. Some party members are worried that the centenary’s festive mood will be dampened by the harsh diplomatic reality. Not only are China’s relations with the U.S. bad, but now EU relations are stuck in a ditch.

China keeps diplomats out of espionage trial of Australian Yang Hengjun (Reuters) Australia’s ambassador to China was denied entry to a heavily guarded Beijing court on Thursday that is hearing an espionage case against Australian blogger Yang Hengjun, at a time of worsening ties between the two nations. China said the case involved state secrets and so could not be heard in open court. Yang, an Australian citizen born in China, wrote about Chinese and U.S. politics online as a high-profile blogger and also penned a series of spy novels before his detention two years ago. Diplomatic ties between the two nations have deteriorated sharply since Yang was detained, with China imposing trade sanctions on produce from Australia and reacting angrily to its call for an international inquiry into the origins of the coronavirus, as well as its 5G ban on telecoms giant Huawei. Details of the Yang case have been shrouded in secrecy, with no information released on which espionage agency he is alleged to have acted for. If convicted Yang faces a jail term of 10 years or more on charges of endangering national security.

The Super Rich Are Choosing Singapore as the World’s Safest Haven (Bloomberg) When Singaporean car dealer Keith Oh first read the Facebook message, he wasn’t sure it was real. A Chinese client ordered a S$1.1 million ($830,000) Bentley—sight unseen—over the social network. “They just asked for the price and when we could do the delivery, that’s all,” he said. “It’s a million dollars to us but it’s probably nothing to them.” Money is sloshing around Singapore like never before. As the coronavirus pandemic hammers Southeast Asia and political turmoil threatens Hong Kong, the city has become a safe harbor for some of the region’s wealthiest tycoons and their families. Singapore has long been a draw for wealthy Chinese, Indonesians and Malaysians who would come for short trips. The pandemic has changed all that, prompting many tycoons and their families to stay for months, in some cases seeking residency to ride out the storm. On a per capita basis, the mortality rates in Malaysia and Indonesia are more than 10 and 30 times higher than in Singapore, according to data collected by Johns Hopkins University.

A Wave of Afghan Surrenders to the Taliban Picks Up Speed (NYT) Ammunition was depleted inside the bedraggled outposts in Laghman Province. Food was scarce. Some police officers hadn’t been paid in five months. Then, just as American troops began leaving the country in early May, Taliban fighters besieged seven rural Afghan military outposts across the wheat fields and onion patches of the province, in eastern Afghanistan. The insurgents enlisted village elders to visit the outposts bearing a message: Surrender or die. By mid-month, security forces had surrendered all seven outposts after extended negotiations, according to village elders. At least 120 soldiers and police were given safe passage to the government-held provincial center in return for handing over weapons and equipment. “We told them, ‘Look, your situation is bad—reinforcements aren’t coming,’” said Nabi Sarwar Khadim, 53, one of several elders who negotiated the surrenders. Since May 1, at least 26 outposts and bases in just four provinces—Laghman, Baghlan, Wardak and Ghazni—have surrendered after such negotiations, according to village elders and government officials. With morale diving as American troops leave, and the Taliban seizing on each surrender as a propaganda victory, each collapse feeds the next in the Afghan countryside.

Israeli Police Round Up Palestinian Protesters Out of Global Spotlight (The Intercept) Palestinian activists urged the world not to look away from their struggle for freedom and equality following the ceasefire in Gaza, as Israeli police began rounding up Palestinian citizens of Israel who took part in demonstrations described as riots by the authorities. At least 74 Palestinians were detained by Monday afternoon, in the first hours of what Israel’s police force is calling “Operation Law and Order.” Palestinian rights groups called the planned arrest of up to 500 protesters—on charges ranging from attacks on the police to vandalism to online incitement—a blatant crackdown on dissent, timed to coincide with the dimming of the global spotlight on the conflict. “Israeli forces and police are going on a mass arresting rampage in Lydd, and other Palestinian cities in an attempt to ‘even the score’ with Palestinians that spoke up against their ethnic cleansing,” the Palestinian writer Mariam Barghouti observed on Twitter, as video of two men being detained and blindfolded in the city Israelis call Lod circulated online. “This is what we warned about. Israel will target us all when you stop looking.” “The world tends to look away as soon as Israeli lives are no longer threatened by rockets but it is stuff like this, that Israel does to Palestinians every day, that guarantees future rounds,” the writer and political analyst Yousef Munayyer commented on the same images.

UN envoy: Syrian people face immense humanitarian suffering (AP) The U.N. special envoy for Syria said Wednesday it’s “a tragic irony” that ordinary Syrians are facing “immense and growing humanitarian suffering” at this time of relative calm in the more than 10-year conflict. Geir Pedersen pointed to “economic destitution, a pandemic, displacement, detention and abduction—all while violent conflict, terrorism and human rights abuses continue” in the country. While the military situation is relatively calm in some areas, Pedersen said, “recurring signs of a hot conflict are abundant.” He cited spikes in violence in several areas, with shelling by both sides, airstrikes including some by Israel, and more attacks attributed to the Islamic State extremist group. On the economic front, Pedersen said, the Syrian pound has stabilized somewhat “but the price of essential goods and transportation costs are increasingly outside of the grasp of many Syrians.” And in many areas, basic services including water, electricity and health “remain compromised,” he said. U.N. humanitarian chief Mark Lowcock stressed the dire water situation, saying reduced water levels in the Euphrates river which started in January “reached a critical point this month.”

Famine Looms in Ethiopia’s War-Ravaged Tigray Region, U.N. Says (NYT) Famine is now knocking on the door of Ethiopia’s Tigray region, where a civil war that erupted last year has drastically cut the food supply and prevented relief workers from helping the hungry, the top U.N. humanitarian official has warned. In a confidential note to the United Nations Security Council, the official, Mark Lowcock, the under secretary general for humanitarian affairs, said sections of Tigray, a region of more than five million people, are now one step from famine—in part because the government has obstructed aid shipments. “Humanitarian operations are being attacked, obstructed or delayed in delivering lifesaving assistance,” Mr. Lowcock wrote, and at least eight aid workers have been killed.

Thousands evacuate Congo’s Goma amid more volcanic activity (AP) Tens of thousands of people are fleeing the city of Goma in eastern Congo fearing another volcanic eruption by Mount Nyiragongo, which spewed lava near the city last week. Traffic was jammed and pedestrians streamed through the streets, desperate to escape the impending danger. A new eruption could occur at any moment, the military governor of Congo’s North Kivu province, Lt. Gen. Constat Ndima Kongba, announced early Thursday. He ordered the evacuation of 10 of the 18 neighborhoods in the city of 2 million people. The center of Goma, which was spared when the volcano erupted last week, is now under threat, with activity being reported near the urban area and Lake Kivu, Kongba said. Residents were advised to carry very little and told not to return to their homes until advised by authorities. Many people were seen heading northwest toward the town of Sake and east toward Rwanda. International organizations such as the U.N. mission in Congo had on Wednesday already begun evacuating their staff.

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