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un2-verse · 3 years

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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

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love-and-anarchy-au · 3 years

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Love & Anarchy: Chapter 24

helloooooo, i know its monday xd but i decided to post three chapters this week, so i finish L&A’s second season part xd (besides, the first two weeks of january i’ll just post one chapter per week so). this chapter is KEY to everything that will happen later; is kinda short though xd. im not terrible at writing action scenes, neither awesome, but well, i did what i could xd. hope ya enjoy this chapter and see ya on wednesday! <3

ps: i did a pinterest moodboard for the au, so if you want to check it out, here it is <3

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @honey-hippie-harper @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare @its-liiinh-cinder-official

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Words:

11,827

Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

17 years old Alec

Don’t mess this up.

I won’t.

It was 7:30 A.M. on a Monday, which was also the first day of school of the semester. Gatlon’s Bridge, in addition to being covered with a thick fog, was overflowing with cars stuck in traffic, cars with diverse people, cars with children ecstatic with anxiety. The environment was populated by speakers, crying children, and occasional songs played at a volume not recommended if you intended to preserve your hearing, but beyond that, everything was calmly normal (if you could call that daily routine of Gatlon City).

For the moment.

It was no accident that traffic was jammed, not at all; it was an act completely planned and carried out by his Anarchist brothers, Leroy Flinn and Henry Bleach, or as they would be called from that moment on, Cyanide and Magma. Both were preventing the vehicles from moving forward with acids and spikes that punctured the wheels of the cars in a discreet way to postpone the onset of generalized panic, preventing them from getting to their destinations.

Forever.

It was no accident that the bridge was covered in a mist so thick it seemed tropical, not at all; it was a thoughtful and planned act, one Alec had asked from his Anarchist sister, Margot Climat, alias Tempest. Her powers seemed limitless, for the moment, and that's how Ace liked it. It was strange to see how her eyes changed color constantly, and how her eyes dipped when it rained, as if her irises were rainclouds as well. She hated that, so she covered her eyes with sunglasses; it didn't stop her cheeks from getting wet.

Alec was standing behind a tree on the coast of Gatlon’s River, hugging his helmet against his ribs. He was wearing a black and gold uniform, with the coat that James had given him and leather shoes, the kind he would only wear to go to mass (although he had stopped going a long time ago for different reasons). His hair was stuck to his skull, although it was useless since, with the helmet on, it would ruffle itself. He was rummaging for sugar (sour gummies helped him calm down a little bit) in his pocket when the walkie-talkie beeped.

“Ace? Ace? Do you copy?” Henry called through his own walkie-talkie.

Alec was regretting agreeing to use that as a mean of communication during the meeting.

He sighed.

“I am here, Magma. What do you need?”

Henry laughed, and his laughter sounded like metal needles colliding against a clock.

“Nothing, just wanted to check on you and ask you when we’ll be starting.”

Alec felt an almost irresistible urge to destroy that damn walkie-talkie and send everything to hell itself. Anxiety was almost as contagious as panic, and, when it came to Alec, it was fair to say it had a far worse effect. If the others were anxious, so was he, and that made him very irritable.

An irritated telekinetic could only lead to chaos.

The opposite of what he was looking for in that moment.

Breathe in and out, Ace. You’re no longer a nobody, you’re the voice of the voiceless. Use it wisely, James commanded in Alec’s mind.

He nodded. The walkie-talkie rang again.

“Anarchy, I'm ready; why don’t we just begin? I'm boreeeed,” Margot complained. Alec tightened his hold on his helmet.

“It isn't I who has to give the signal,” he replied, and switched channels until he was on Honey's. “Queen Bee, are you ready? Magma and Tempest are eager.”

The walkie-talkie made the same radio sounds, and it took two minutes for Honey to respond.

“Not yet,” she said; then, she corrected. “Now I am.”

Alec smiled and turned on all the channels simultaneously.

“Phase One begins now!” he announced, and that was when the orchestra of everyday urban sounds was interrupted by a deafening buzz.

Many, rather.

Hundreds, thousands, millions of bees, bumblebees and wasps, completely invaded the bridge and changed the course of the daily orchestra, to one of terror. The horns became screams, the cries intensified as more people joined the symphony, the cars accelerated and collided with others in what was the impulse to press the accelerator to escape that nightmare.

That was just the beginning.

The bees were denser than the fog itself; Gatlon’s Bridge seemed engulfed in a buzzing cloud, with stingers, stripes, stings, and small wings. Honey must be on the pedestrian side of the bridge, controlling her bumblebees and showing herself to the world as the Queen Bee, in her yellow and black sequined dress, her towering heels, and her makeup dripping like melted wax.

Alec felt like time was led in his veins; it seemed not to move at all.

He wanted, needed, to come in and help Honey prolong the chaos, the anarchy.

Patience, Julieta and James whispered.

After two minutes passed, and the bees dispersed, it was time to move on to the next phase.

“Phase Two, Tempest, go!”

“Finally,” she grumbled breathlessly.

A wild and uncontrollable wind hit the bridge, forming a tornado, strong enough to engulf the cars but not to destroy the bridge.

It was their turn.

The tornado spun around and around until it became a thread of fury and madness, filled with desperate cars and people. Like when an elastic band couldn’t be twisted anymore, the tornado freed all its prisoners and threw them into the river, where they were drowned in seconds, practically. The volume of the symphony of screams and cries increased, and that was the signal Alec was waiting for.

“Atomic Brain, Flower Power, ready to proceed?”

“More than ever!” yelled Bruce, stunning Alec.

“Let's do this,” he announced and took a deep breath.

The first time Alec flew, it was by mere accident.

They were on the river coast, as always, eating fries, as always, but this time, there was something… different. Alexandra was wearing a dress tighter to the body, James’ shirt had three loose buttons and he… felt free. He felt as if the wind could carry him anywhere, and he would not care, because he was made of atoms that were as free as his soul, and those atoms made him a free, free, free being.

Just like that, out of nowhere, his feet rose from the ground and his hands approached the sky, and he was so close to touching the stars, until ...

“ACE!”

Alexandra gave a hysterical squeak, while James tensed like a wire.

Alec landed gracefully, only for his friends to pounce on him and start killing him with questions. Alec could not answer any, nor could he at that moment, when he was about to jump into the river with the hope he would fly again, not to touch the sky, but to break the ground instead.

He could only wish the practice days with Alexandra and James would work out.

So he jumped, feeling his bones, his muscles, his clothes, feeling.

And he did not fall.

He rose and rose, meters above the river and the bridge, and stood there, breathing in and out, floating for a few moments, suspended by an invisible but tangible thread, staring at the tragic Gatlon’s Bridge, which seemed as if it were underwater, as its choir of agony became isolated, and the bees and acids and winds were a gray and black and yellow blur. It was a hideous, hideous, despicable bridge...

Destroy it.

Alec closed his eyes and, still feeling himself, spread his hands as if he could touch the bridge, and he imagined it. Beams, cement, glass, plastic, garbage, meat, bone, blood, exoskeletons, poison. Everything on that bridge throbbed, full of life, and felt so… manipulable.

Suddenly, he sensed vines wrapping around the main girders of the bridge. The vines were thick, and they put considerable pressure on the rafters. Alec felt the cement crack and the metal twist, little by little. In the girders by the opposite side of the bridge, atoms were beginning to disappear and reappear in amorphous and useless objects. The metal within the concrete pillars, present in one blink and absent the other. The bridge wobbled and looked at Alec, expectantly.

He was begging for him to destroy it.

Focus.

He collected each of his moments of contained rage throughout the years, piece by piece. When they murdered Julieta, an innocent girl, without any mercy. When they burned Alexandra, one more teenager. When James, a visionary anarchist, was poisoned. When they stoned every prodigy that ever walked the streets, doing nothing but existing.

When no one, not even God himself, did anything.

Alec's teeth gnashed. His brow furrowed.

All that fury, that helplessness, those screams stuck in his throat, were redirected to the bridge.

Gatlon’s Bridge shook, once, twice, five times. Cracks spread across the deck, thick cracks like the destroyed girders of the bridge, horizontal and vertical cracks. Cars and people fell into the cracks and tried to hold on to something but fell anyway. It was almost as if he had taken the screaming volume switch and turned it all the way up, to the point of stunning him, who was fifty meters away. He let the cracks spread like a virus, and suspended the bridge under his power for a few seconds. His hand was open and extended.

Do it.

He clenched his fist.

Alec released the bridge and gravity exerted its force. Cement, metal, sheet metal, steel, plastic, flesh, bone, blood and screams rushed into the water, pleasantly slow. The chorus of screaming rose a notch louder and pleased Alec's ears, like James’ piano melodies. Screams caressed his eardrums and he felt as if the ghosts of all the prodigies killed in the streets were cheering on him , and thanking him for avenging them. He never had been freer, happier, prouder of himself.

A proud laugh that could have easily been maniacal bubbled from his throat. Until that moment, he had not been aware of what he was capable of, of his full potential or all his… power. He felt more alive than ever, feeling the destruction and chaos around him; that chaos and destruction he longed for, like someone who wanted to buy something but didn’t not have enough money and must save and wait and persevere until they got it.

Revenge was exactly the same. Planning, patience and perseverance.

That was why there was nothing more delicious than a well-deserved revenge.

James had known that.

How lucky he was that he had passed on some of his wisdom!

Knowing everything he knew, he allowed himself to re-experiment with his powers. He used his mental hands to knock down a pillar. Another. Part of the board. It was like playing with wooden cubes, exactly that, only on a large scale.

He felt like a god.

How had he survived so long without that feeling? That of having all eyes on him, although he was only a point in the sky, that of being able to manipulate the world at will, that of being responsible for those who committed gruesome crimes received what they deserved, that of power. To be able to be, to be able to do, to be able to destroy, to be able to create. To be able to do everything.

He could do everything. Because he was a goddamn prodigy.

He laughed again, happier than ever.

Well done, Artino, congratulationed James.

His walkie-talkie beeped.

He took it with his left hand, and announced, empowered:

“Well done, Anarchists. Phase One of The Plan has been completed.”

The walkie-talkie hummed and Margot replied:

“Now it's time to kill those suckers.”

Alec smirked.

“Wait for it, Tempest. We may leave to get ready for Phase Two.”

Margot huffed.

“As you please, Anarchy.”

Alec put the walkie-talkie in his pocket.

And he went flying in the direction of the coast.

The other Anarchists did the same.

Leaving only chaos and destruction behind.

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creepingsharia · 4 years

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Islamic call to sharia prayer broadcast from mosques in cities across southern California

The Islamization of America is well under way. And it will only get worse with open borders. Future generations - particularly girls and women - will ask why you sat idly by and allowed this to happen. VIDEO HERE.

PS: The mosque highlighted in this LA Times puff piece is linked to the 9/11 attacks. Read: Saudi at Culver City mosque linked to 9/11 attack

The call to prayer rang out at 7:49 on a Saturday evening as the sky glowed pink from the setting sun.

Mahmood Nadvi, standing on the rooftop, delivers the adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, at King Fahad Mosque in Culver City. Amid the pandemic lockdown, many mosques in Southern California got permission from local authorities to broadcast the adhan during Ramadan, the holiest month in the Islamic calendar. (Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

Women in hijabs and masks gazed up at the mosque as the Arabic hymn floated down:

Allah is the greatest.

I bear witness that there is none worthy of worship except Allah.

Mahmood Nadvi stood on King Fahad Mosque’s roof, 60 feet above the street, nearly level with the palm trees, singing into a handheld microphone.

For over 1,000 years, Muslims have relied on the human voice to call the faithful to prayer. It’s become tradition that wherever a mosque is built, there is a place for the muezzin, or prayer caller, said Aslam Abdullah, a Muslim scholar based in San Bernardino.

While the adhan echoes five times a day in Islamic countries, like a Roman Catholic church bell signaling Mass, it is unusual to hear the adhan publicly broadcast in the U.S., where it is more likely to be heard in Hollywood movies.

People stop in their tracks to watch Mahmood Nadvi deliver the Islamic call to prayer from the roof of King Fahad Mosque in Culver City. (Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

Which is what made the scene in a Culver City neighborhood, near a gun shop and a church with a sign reading “Jesus Saves,” unusual. Even historic. Like the life-altering pandemic that inspired it from here to Minnesota to New Jersey during Ramadan, the holiest month in the Islamic calendar.

In extraordinary times, when Muslims are unable to break the fast and pray together because COVID-19 has forced mosques to close — as it has some churches and other places of worship — the adhan has brought comfort. Cities across Southern California, including Redlands, Fontana, Rancho Cucamonga and Claremont, have allowed mosques to broadcast the call to prayer publicly.

Outside the Culver City mosque, some pedestrians stopped in their tracks when they first heard the adhan, seemingly surprised. This was something new, and it was not altogether clear how it would be received — as with many things Muslim in the U.S.

Mahmood Nadvi uses a handheld microphone to share the adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, at King Fahad Mosque in Culver City.(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

“It is indeed historical,” said Abdullah, who in the last week has heard the call to prayer broadcast in Redlands and Fontana. “It’s more than tolerance, it is our acceptance, I think. That’s a remarkable thing that this country has shown once again.”

But in Culver City, the call to prayer did not go unchallenged for long.

After four days, on May 18, the city’s police department revoked the amplified noise permit, citing people congregating at the mosque in violation of the county health order, as well as “numerous loud noise complaints from area residents.”

“We have had and will continue to have a great relationship with mosque leadership,” said Capt. Jason Sims with the Culver City Police Department. “We are certainly happy to help with facilitating any type of service that is not in violation of county health orders.”

Three days later, the city changed course again, reinstating the permit on the condition that the mosque lower the volume.

Meanwhile, on the Nextdoor social networking app, debates raged between neighbors.

“I’m glad I don’t live near there,” someone commented, spawning a string of responses.

“There are a lot of bitter racists in CC,” someone replied.

“What has a Muslim ever done to you?” one user said.

“Make me unhappy,” another responded.

Another commenter added: “You should ask people from Europe what they think about the muslims? I don’t think you get many people cheering them on.”

Two women in hijabs and masks gaze up as the adhan, or Islamic call to prayer, floats down from the roof of King Fahad Mosque in Culver City.(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

Across the U.S., the closure of churches has prompted pushback, with some filing lawsuits and a few defying stay-at-home orders.

The U.S. Justice Department warned in a letter Tuesday that the measures Gov. Gavin Newsom enacted to slow the spread of the coronavirus and his plans to unwind them might discriminate against religious groups and violate their constitutional rights.

More than 1,200 pastors have vowed to hold in-person services on May 31, Pentecost Sunday. On Friday, Trump declared houses of worship “essential” and called on governors to allow their reopening.

In the U.S., the question of whether to broadcast the adhan publicly has been controversial over the years. When the City Council in Hamtramck, Mich., approved the local mosque’s request to amplify the call to prayer in 2004, it sparked anger in the town.

“With so much going on in the world with terrorism, people are afraid maybe they’ll be saying things [in Arabic] that we don’t understand,” a bakery manager said at the time.

Despite the initial controversy, the adhan continues being broadcast there today.

Many mosques across Southern California got permission from local authorities to broadcast the adhan, or call to prayer, which is unusual to hear publicly broadcast in the U.S. Above, a small group gathers outside King Fahad Mosque in Culver City. (Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)

In 2015, Duke University called off its plan to sound the prayer call from the chapel’s 210-foot bell tower for the first time, in the face of anti-Islamic tirades on social media and concerns about security.

So this year, when mosques received permits to share the adhan through Ramadan, starting in Minnesota, some worried about what could happen.

“I’m very excited but ... deep inside I also have some concerns. Not because it’s not the right thing to do,” said Hussam Ayloush, executive director of the Los Angeles chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations. “But because we also still have people in our country who harbor prejudice towards Muslims or people who are not part of the majority.”

Last week, in Fontana, Ar-Rahman Islamic Center began broadcasting the adhan four times a day — omitting the earliest one around 4:30 a.m.

The only issue the center had, director Juma Darwish said, is that the prayer caller was too loud and actually broke the speaker outside — which the center is working to fix. The mosque has no end date on the broadcast.

“We’re just going to keep doing it until we feel any neighbor has discomfort with it,” Darwish said. “We’re not going to do it if a neighbor complains about it.”

Rauf Patel, director of King Fahad Mosque, and his wife, Anisa, were excited when they heard that the adhan was being publicly broadcast in Minnesota. Anisa convinced her husband to request a permit to do the same in Culver City.

In his letter to the city, Patel said broadcasting the adhan “would be a beacon of light in this trying time.” The mosque has been closed since March.

“During these difficult and unusual times of COVID-19, staying away from the mosque during our holy month has been challenging,” Patel wrote. “Being able to call to prayer out loud ... would not only lift all of our spirits, but also bring back [a] sense of our unity in our community and get us through our last few days of Ramadan.”

Soon after, the Police Department issued the permit. It would last until May 22, the day before the start of Eid al-Fitr, a celebration known as feast of the fast-breaking.

On the first day, May 14, Ahson Syed, the mosque’s religious director, stepped on overturned milk crates and up three steps that allowed him to peer over the roof at the people gathered below.

In Saudi Arabia, Syed was accustomed to hearing the call to prayer five times a day. In the U.S., he typically heard it only inside of mosques or community centers —- certainly not from the rooftops, broadcast across neighborhoods.

That evening, he was the first one to recite the adhan publicly, his voice ringing with emotion over the black loudspeaker. Half of the attendees that night were crying.

On the third night, Suzan Alrayes stood below with her 3- and 5-year-old sons, her husband and her parents. It had been a hard Ramadan, one in which she struggled to explain to her children the lurking, viral danger that prevented them from coming to the mosque.

That Saturday evening, there were plastic containers of dates and water bottles for attendees to take for the breaking of the fast.

The first time Alrayes heard the adhan from the roof of the mosque, she said, “it just gave me goose bumps.”

“I can’t even describe the feeling,” she said. “We’re not used to having the adhan in public in the United States.”

She just hoped, she said, that it wouldn’t disturb the non-Muslim community in any way.

“That would be my only concern,” Alrayes said.

Neighbors living around the mosque were surprised to hear the permit had been revoked, albeit briefly. Many of them said they couldn’t hear it, even though they live nearby.

The mosque, one resident, Liliana Cruz said, is “very much a part of the neighborhood.” She wondered about who would call to complain about the noise, calling them “jerks.”

“I don’t know who those people are,” Cruz said. “I don’t even want to know them.”

Another neighbor, who only gave his name as Eddie, said he wished neighbors had been given a heads-up about the call to prayer. He has stereo equipment, but said he could still hear the adhan from his home, which stands in view of the blue and white minaret.

“If you don’t have anything to avoid it, it can be a form of distress,” he said.

Debra Sugarman, who has lived in the city for 10 years, said she’s spent a lot of time in the Middle East and enjoys hearing the call to prayer. Sugarman, who lives a few blocks from the mosque, said she strained to hear the adhan the first few nights. She wished, she said, that it had been louder.

“It’s Ramadan,” Sugarman said. “They should be allowed to practice their religion.”

#Islam #Sharia #Muslim #Jihad #Mosque #Immigration #Invasion #News #Politics #Video #Religion #Travel #Media

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harrenhollaback · 4 years

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fic graphics i made this year! ✨

orphan’s club | for my very first fic ever in my whole entire life! i think i wrote like 2? pieces of fiction before this point and one took place in a 7-11 and the other was about baked alaskas. okay i’m JUST connecting that to me doing diner fic for my first go. okay werk... i’m also really sad i lost the illustrator file to this bc i wanted to go back and color in my cookies. oi and i remember i originally wanted to doodle a different piece for each SECTION of the fic lmao the hubris!! but. looking at this, it really does have the most special place in my heart (’:

valyrian steel play | i’m obsessed with the catspaw dagger design so it makes up the two horns here! this one was quick work bc i already had the dagger done for a suuuper cursed illustration that i will never try showing anyone ever again (but i love it for ME). i really wanted these b&w headers to be a thing across my fics but for the life of me to this day, TO THIS DAY, i can NOT get my images on AO3 to center!! even if i use work skins!! america, explain???

blame it on the goose | oh what a sweet 2am it was putting this together realizing that geese are white like horses are white. listen. i fell so hard in love with this stoopit goose without ever playing its game. couldn’t even bear adding blood splatter to it. when the goose pic was missing a foot and part of its wing, i patched it out of love. it also has its own shadow on the rubble and i’m v proud of it even though it’s the easiest button to press on photoshop lmao

bonus in-game style! this is a collage! to-do list screencapped from here. arya and gendry are LUCKILY from a stock image!! otherwise i really was going to spend time vectorizing these little fucks even though i’ve only ever vectored objects. all i did was remove eyes, blacken gendry’s hair, and add head wound to arya. goose had me tooo committed to the visual. ps this sack of birb literally just goes around terrorizing towns and collecting golden bells from towers and you cannot tell me that that’s not king’s landing!! the one thrones crossover that's just meant to be.

storm uncles | oh gosh look away. this is the only place i’m going to share this one lol. truthfully making this gave me nothing but pure joy!! i used to stare at the image of the bg waves as i wrote and it would soothe me (’: this is still my first attempt at a multichap and i’m kinda back to believing i will finish it? i write dropped hard after the second chap and realized the orphan button is really good ux for inner saboteurs. but! i’m patient with the work it takes to unlearn self-doubt, embrace buckwilidism, and find solace in it’s not that serious. + i got two three?! really kind comments recently that multiplied the hope cells in my body. shoutsouts laura, anniephl, and risscat on ao3. ( : fun fact: after i finished writing renly for the first time, i read olenna’s first appearance in asos and a ton of her verbiage was down in my renly. the validation doth flowed even if they are not the same person but. the tyrellian adjacent extravagance and the baratheon petty is why i love my boy.

the muscle | this one came together pretty quickly and seamlessly and it’s now my favorite thing! the bg, band pic, wolf, and polaroid frame are all from stock. everything else is from like an online store’s product page lmao. watermark lines are still on the tickets but idgaf!! i also love owning a tablet just so i can use it for “lettering” that looks like this lol

cute lil ticket closeup! cassette bg is stock and the yellowy layer is actually a postcard texture that i accidentally pasted and ended up liking bc it kinda looks like there’s a dirty glass case! i wish i took out the border on the left but it’s too late lmao

looking at this “progression” truly makes me so happy. i am an otter floating on its back hugging my five little shells like ah, yes, i will have the contentment and the buoyancy too. i love that fandom can be a space to just do what the fuck ever. it’s so freeing and jush-inducing to make things for fun again. next year i wanna experiment more with collages, maybe even doodle my first human body, and hopefully make things for others. just wanna get a little wonky, a little abstract, and a lot lot silly

to more creative nonsense in 2020! 🎉

#long post #i opened my lil folder of edits and all these felt so far away!#giraffics

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satoshi-mochida · 5 years

Link

The PS Vita version of NightCry will launch on January 31 for $24.99 / 2,480 yen, publisher Active Gaming Media and developer Nude Maker announced.

The horror game from Clock Tower series creator Hifumi Kono first launched for PC in March 2016.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

Story

A calming cruise, an unexpected horror.

Welcomed aboard a luxurious cruise liner, you are spending your time enjoying this rare opportunity.But at the height of the evening, things are not as they appear as a murder brings it all to a grinding halt. With no idea which direction to turn, blame is thrown around the ship in panic as the guests start to suspect one another.

As night falls and a cry echoes out through the ship, the true nightmare begins.

Search for the answers and save yourself and others from a terror you can’t begin to explain.

Key Features

NightCry is a 3D point-and-click adventure game. Click to move your character and search the ship. Interact with objects by selecting them. Make sure you check it all carefully, for the clues you need may not be easy to find.

But searching isn’t all you will be doing. As you search, you will be haunted, and the Scissor Walker will be coming for you.

In Exploration Mode, explore the cruise liner for the answers you seek. Learn about the strange and often gruesome happenings that currently plague the ship, solve the puzzles and seek the route that will lead you to safety.

But be warned, searching through the ship’s secrets will lead you to trouble and frantic escapes are the only way to survive. Run, hide and stay quiet for it is coming, and maybe you will survive long enough to learn the true horrors of this oncoming evil force.

Watch the PS Vita version launch trailer below. View the first screenshots of the PS Vita version at the gallery.

youtube

#NightCry #Hifumi Kono #survival horror #PS Vita #Clock Tower #Gematsu #I thought it'd come to the PS4 but I guess not.

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ravishmeclownboi-blog · 6 years

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(/^♡^)/ first off you're amazing!!! Second, I'm feeling fluffy and want some pennyfluff where he saves the reader from an abusive bf (he can eat the bf ;) and is super nice while he cradles reader and kisses them telling what a good girl they are as he takes off their clothes and continues kissing them all over while comforting them. Ps. I love you ❤🎈❤ *scurries and hides*

Okay here goes i hope you like it😄

Rain fell down outside, you sat in your living room gazing out the window contemplating life in its simplest forms, wondering why we exist, what your purpose was, wondering why you ever got into this situation in the first place. Surely you were smarter than this? Surely you were. All your life family, friends, and acquaintances had told you that you deserved to be happy, free and with someone who adored and cherished you, and the funny thing is, for a while that all seemed to come true. You had met him in college and you instantly hit it off when he helped you study for a big final. You bonded over music, movies, you had the same sense of humor and ways of doing things. It seemed like you were almost made for each other, he was yours and you were his. You were soul mates and everything was beautiful for 3 years, everything was perfect, that was until you felt his hand strike your face. Of course, he promised he’d never do it again, begging you to take him back, which foolishly you did. Then the blow of his fist came, powerful hands grabbing your hair and dragging you across your apartment floor, kicking and screaming whilst he would shout out obscenities at you, ‘dumb cunt’ was his favourite, it was used so often that it pretty much became your nickname and you just learned to withstand it. You had learned to withstand the beatings too. You had learned to live with the slaps, the mental torture of wondering when the next showdown was to come, you had gotten used to the sharp pain of the cuts, the aching of the bruises and you were an expert in coming up with excuses to when friends asked you what had happened to your face and your arms, they probably already knew what really went on at this point, but you were too mentally tired to care what they thought.

You were happy and serene in these little hours of the day, the two or three hours between when you arrived home from work and you were awaiting your spouse to return, even though part of you hated him for what he put you through, you still loved him and you still got up to greet them when they came through the door, hugging and giving them a kiss like you were the perfect couple. But something always went wrong, the little things set them off if you hadn’t sorted out dinner, if there was laundry to be done or if you borrowed his laptop to check emails or do some work from home. You were always on your toes around him and you were afraid, but you never left. A part of you thought as the years went on, maybe if you’d settled down, got married and had a child maybe his personality and behavior would calm down, but you knew deep down you were kidding yourself because people don’t really change. You had been thinking about your time in Derry, where you grew up, and as the rain continued to ricochet off the window pane your mind wandered to those days when you were 15, younger and full of hope and love, all your friends, your family.... and someone else, something else. This thing stroke terror into the hearts of children and other adults but to you, it only filled your body and heart with wonder and majesty. It took a liking to you from the moment it set eyes on you and even though at first you were scared for your life, you found yourself oddly compelled to follow this thing wherever it went, have it beside you, like some kind of fucked up guardian angel. In time you felt safe around this creature, the way he touched you, caressed you and protected you, like the time you were nearly attacked by that asshole Henry Bowers, he came out of the shadows and attacked him, screaming at him to not touch “what was rightfully his” you weren’t an object and you usually hated the thought of a person addressing you like you were one, but he wasn’t human. And he said those things not like a possessive madman but like you were his precious little treasure, his world. When you left Derry you thought you’d never see him again, and truthfully it hurt. Even when you were in your honeymoon phase of your soon to be a destructive relationship you still thought of him.

His face appeared in your dreams, whenever you closed your eyes he was all you could see, you wanted to feel his arms around you just once more, but I guess all good things must come to an end at some point, so you can move on to better, but what you had moved on to wasn’t, it was hell. Your thoughts and daydream suddenly were shattered as you heard the slam of the front door, you jolted up from your armchair to make yourself presentable and seemingly happy to greet your lover. “Hey babe, how was work?” You chirped out with a smile. Running over to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Fucking bullshit, that’s what it was, I need a drink” your smile turned into a frown, he was in a bad mood and he’d not even been home for 2 minutes. “Sorry to hear that, how about we go out and have coffee instead, we could go for a walk and come home and watch something on Netflix, that’ll cheer you up” you said hopefully with a innocence and hope in your voice. “Have you seen the weather outside? and I don’t have time, gotta get paperwork done or I’m screwed, can you get me a glass of wine” you backed away and continued speaking, trying to sway him from the anger and stress he was feeling. “Come on you don’t need to drink, just come with me and we’ll have fu-“ he interrupted you with a mighty bellow of anger infused words. “ARE YOU STUPID? Did you not hear what I just said, stop being a fucking nuisance and get me the Damn wine” You gasped and took a breath, trying not to let your eyes fill with tears. “No” you timidly and shyly spoke “no I won’t get you a glass of wine because you don’t need it” he suddenly grabbed you by the arm and twisted it, your body became stiff and you yelped out at the sharp stinging pain of his fingers pressed into you. “You do what I fucking say...I told you to never speak back, remember what happens when you speak back you little cunt?” Tears started to form as his grip became tighter and more menacing. “Let go off me!” You screamed in his face “you’re hurting me” he laughed mockingly in your face, spit hitting your cheeks and making you feel completely inferior. “I don’t give a fuck, you deserve this, you’re always fucking going on at me, always wanting more more more! “Oh do this with me y/n “why are you always working y/n” why can’t you ever just shut up?” And with those sharp intakes of his words you felt it, the feeling you’ve felt a thousand times before, his cracked, dry hand slap you across your face, this one was painful and it made you fall to the ground in agony. You lay there like a shriveled up doll, covering your face with your hands and begging him not to continue. As he crawled upon the floor, towering over your body and screaming all the names under the sun at you, his face red with anger and hatred, but there was a look in his eyes, a hungry and sinister look, that look.

You knew what he was thinking and you didn’t want to know what was going on inside his head, all the details. wickedness filled his face as he spoke, still angry but a forced calmness fell upon him. “You know, it doesn’t have to be like this y/n, I’m just really stressed and you make it worse, help me get a load off and we’ll call it a night hm?” Your eyes widened with fright, your lips trembled as you tried to scurry away under him, but it was to no avail. His hands began tearing at your sweater, pulling it up forcefully, hands groping onto your chest, his free hand was down below his belt as he unbuckled it and began forcefully pulling your jeans down. “NO Y/N STOP, STOP PLEAASE” you cried out “LET GO OF ME” you bit his hand trying to make him get off you but that only made the fury come out in full force with yet another slap to your tear-stained face. “You shouldn’t have done that you fucking stupid cunt” he sneered. He was about to do something much worse and you thought you might as well lie there and take it because it was useless trying to fight him. But just as you were beginning to come to terms with your fate you saw two humongous white-gloved hands appear over his shoulders and grab him, shoving him backwards into the wall. He was back. He stood there looking at your frail and shaking body, angered at what your spouse did to you. He remembered how full of life and innocent you were back in Derry and him seeing you like a frightened mouse made him furious, he liked your free spirit and even though he was a monster that fed on fear, something inside of him adored you being happy. “P-Pennywise” you gasped. “You’re back” you smiled out, still crying but the tears and sadness turned into an overwhelming veil of relief and excitement. You felt a rush come over you. “Of course I’m back little one, what has this pathetic human boy done to you?” He came over to you, putting his hand gently on your face and stroking your cheek, you closed your eyes and tingles went all through your body as you felt his beautiful warm touch, for the first time in so long, and it felt wonderful. A grumble filled the room, your spouse had awoken from his brief unconscious state after being shoved into the concrete wall. “What the fuck are you? What the fuck are you doing freak?” He screamed at the clown. Pennywise conked his head round to face the defeated man looking at him with pure hatred and resentment. “I’m going to show you real pain, I’m your worst nightmare, stupid man, how dare you lay your scum filled, meek human hands on her” He sneered.

His mouth widened, revealing his magnificent, frightening and razor-sharp jaws as he ran towards him and pinned him against the wall, his gloved hand, now with protruding black claws. “You never deserved her human, you never deserved to have her touch, her face, her body SHES MINE, and now it’s time to die” He stuck his fully clawed hand through his abdomen, blood splatting out over the white walls, he coughed and gagged on his own blood as he became nothing but a lifeless sack of meat between the clowns body. He fell to the floor like a rag doll. You sat there shocked, in a state of pure dismay. The man that you loved, the man that hurt you, made you feel inadequate, defeated, scared and worthless was now dead. And all though you thought you’d feel sadness and horror seeing the scene that had just unravelled before your eyes, you felt nothing. All you cared about was that Pennywise was back, he was back for you, he saved you, like a prince saving the maiden from a dragon. Pennywise turned his attention now to you again, he got on all fours and crawled to your shaking body that was sitting up on the floor, head down and trying not to cry. He held his hand, now back to the soft human-like hand to your face, he used his forefinger to touch your chin and tilt it up so you were looking at him, in his beautiful icy blue eyes, the same eyes you dreamed about every night. “He’s gone now, my sweet” without hesitation you threw your body into his, nose and mouth inhaling his scent, popcorn and bubblegum. Sniffling into his ruffled collar you felt safe again, as his arms tightly wrapped around you, in a beautiful gentle embrace. “I missed you so much” you quietly cried out into him. He stroked your hair and breathed into your neck as he was smelling you too, he hadn’t been this close to you in years, even though he’d never say it out loud because pride wouldn’t let him, he missed you terribly and he was absolutely over the moon to have his little doll back in his arms once again, like you’d never left.

“It’s okay little one, I’m back. And I’m never leaving again”

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floofsta-x · 7 years

Text

Rise Before the Fall, Pt.1

parts;; One (You are here) | Two | Three (coming soon)

genre;; Science fiction, fandom – Pacific Rim!AU

pairing;; Jooheon x I.M [Jookyun, Rapper Line]; PS there’s also Kiho in here, and mentions of Hyungnu and Minhyungnu

⚠️ warnings;; violence of course [THEY’RE FIGHTING GIANT ALIENS???], fluff, bucketloads of angst, depression due to terminal illness, and some smut eventually

words;; 5497 (5.5k)

title;; The final track of the Pacific Rim OST, Drift – Blake Perlman & RZA

author’s notes;; Ahhh! I am so excited to be able to share a bit of this with you at long last! This is the first part of a Jookyun miniseries, but trust me when I say that I also have a larger, more inclusive work on the way involving the rest of the boys and this gigantic extended universe–that’s honestly gotten way too out of hand. But I will deal with that as it happens. Anticipate! I really hope you enjoy this small offering while you wait ❤︎

It is June, 2017.

Almost two years ago, the first Kaiju emerged from the deep-sea rift known as the breach. Massive, terrifying, toxic, indestructible by conventional means, and hellbent on destruction, it ravaged a great part of the Californian coastline before finally meeting its end in the form of a nuclear warhead. There was great rejoicing. Everyone believed the threat to be over. The world sighed in relief and went on with the everyday, content to think that the terror was a singular event, a freak of space and time.

Yet, when the next reared its ugly head and leveled a good part of Tokyo, and the third headed for Sydney, Australia, the brutal truth had to be accepted. There was no end in sight. So, a council of world leaders from the nations of the Pacific Rim put their heads together. They needed a match for the towering Kaiju, the alien monsters. Thus, the Jaeger was born: a hunter, a soldier scaled up to the extreme of the alien threat. It was a crazy idea, but one that was eagerly received in light of such dire circumstances.

To be able to kill the fast-moving, agile Kaiju, scientists employed experimental technology. They hoped that the Jaegers could be controlled via mental power alone. The idea was that by syncing a man’s brain and the warrior, they would able to move as one, and naturally. Scientists quickly learned that one person on their own could not handle the load. When a second added their willpower, though, things ran a whole lot smoother.

Given the green light to proceed with production, within months, a small fleet of Jaegers rolled out. A governing organization for their maintenance and command was created, too: the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps. The Jaegers could not operate without pairs of pilots, and so teams from around the world were meticulously chosen and trained. They were the first on the front lines, and ultimately also the first to realize that humankind’s gamble was paying off. One Kaiju was killed at the hands of a Jaeger. A second, six months later. The next, four months following.

Now, there is an emergence about every 5 weeks. The ragtag teams of rangers and Jaegers that exist at various points around the Pacific Rim have managed to check them off as they have come, but there have been unforeseen consequences for many. Innocent civilians have died of Kaiju Blue, from attack, and from fear and panic. Mark 1 and 2 Jaegers have gone down, killing pilots, experienced and inexperienced alike. The world is tired, though the human spirit fights on.

This is the story of two young men, recruited by necessity and hardened by combat. Forged into best friends in the cockpit of their Mark 2 Jaeger, Blind Rhythm, Lee Jooheon and Im Changkyun have managed to fight their way through 3 solo kills and 1 team drop without becoming an alien monster’s gigantic toy. They’ve just been deployed again, against the biggest, nastiest Kaiju yet, and they’re going to need every bit of wit, skill and strength they can muster…

Lee Jooheon jerked out of his deep, dreamless slumber and almost instantly realized that something was wrong. The familiar, piercing sound of sirens rang in his ears and bright light pushed the dark away as the LED screen on the wall of the bunkroom lit up. Though he was still hazy and scrabbling for alertness, one thought ran through his head and one thought alone: Kaiju. And since the screen is up, we’re being deployed, then. Groaning, he rolled over and rubbed his eyes, then glanced toward the clock on the wall. 12:15 blinked back at him in blocky lines.

“Changkyun? Hey, let’s go man. We’re up.” The messy-haired, chubby-cheeked boy groaned sleepily, wiggling a little bit to rock the bed. Doubtless, momentarily there would come a reply like “Ok, ok, you don’t need to tell me twice, Jooheon hyung.”

But there was only silence. “Come on, don’t act like the maknae. People need us–”

Wait a minute. I don’t even hear breathing. Jooheon rolled and slid out of bed, dropping the little ways to the ground, his knees bent as he hit the floor. Glancing behind him, it hit him that his suspicion was correct. The bottom bunk was empty, sheets not even touched.

Dread descended on him. “Kyunie…where did you go this time?” he half-asked, sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. It was a futile question, only for his own peace of mind; he knew without even having to look around that his co-pilot wasn’t here.

The LED panel was urgently trying to blind him, but it didn’t matter at the moment. As he stood there and tried to get the gears of his brain moving, Jooheon couldn’t seem to think of anything else but his best friend and partner in crime. Changkyun meant the world to him. They had flown together for three years, first in basic training, then the Air Force, and now for the PPDC. Now, on missions, they lived in each others’ heads, but far before that, they had known their friendship was special. It had always been so natural, and though they had a few hard times they found themselves unable to stay away for long.

Apparently, others noticed too. Six months ago, an officer had approached them and recruited them for the PPDC. Jooheon and Changkyun had become part of the second generation of Jaeger pilots. Many commented on how strong their drift compatibility was. At first, both of them thought that it was a blessing. Then, they rushed through training (the Los Angeles Academy was still non-existent at that point) before ultimately command told them that they were to fill the cockpit of a Mark 2.

Blind Rhythm, they named the mech–and the duo learned very quickly how truly terrifying facing down a Kaiju was. It was without a doubt the scariest thing anyone could do, but together they had managed to keep their cool and bagged their first kill.

The next one was a little better than the first. The third went down in no time. And now they were about to be thrust into the fray again.

Once the cold of the concrete floor had seeped into his bones and he felt alert enough to think, Jooheon glanced over at the screen at long last. This kaiju–Blitzkrieg, apparently–was hands down the biggest that had ever emerged from the breach. They already had stats on it, as well as possible primary offensive strategies and mechanisms. Thirty minutes until report time, the red clock in the corner blinked forebodingly. Thirty minutes to find my co-pilot.

As he pulled on a pair of tennis shoes on, Jooheon shook his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then dove out the door in his boxers and rumpled tank top. He didn’t care that he wasn’t wearing socks, that his hair was a mess, that he probably looked like he had walked out of the apocalypse. His brain was going too fast, thinking of possible places to find a twenty-one year old boy–because in a few ways he still was a boy–Changkyunie.

Jooheon jogged down the corridor, purposefully passing halls of bunks and quarters. His instinct was to ask someone, and of course the first person to cross his mind was Shin “Wonho” Hoseok, head of Blind Rhythm’s J-Tech team. Hoseok-hyung was a good friend of theirs and always supportive. Many admired him for his body, but those who really knew him easily saw that he was as kind-hearted as handsome and sexy.

Finally Jooheon pulled up in front of the door he needed and knocked. Faintly, from inside, there came, “Just a minute!”

That was fine. He had seconds to spare; also, it was a perfect moment to lean forward and catch his breath. Finally, the doorknob wiggled and none other than Wonho himself pulled it open.

Boy, was he a sight. His dark, blue-green streaked hair stuck out oddly, and he was half-naked and adjusting his boxers, like he had just put them on and pulled them up. More than that, though, Hoseok…well, to put it nicely, it looked like someone had been having a little bit of fun with him. Lines of red and black hickeys dotted his neck and collarbone, and his lips (plus the immediate area around them) were redder and more swollen than usual.

“Jooheon-ah!” He gasped when he realized who it was. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you should be suiting up–”

“I know, I know.” The chubby-cheeked pilot waved his hand dismissively, and before the older boy could protest he cut in, “Have you seen or heard from Changkyun? I can’t find him.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Who is it, Hoseok-ah?” In the dark, another voice spoke; moments later, someone else quite unashamedly came up behind Wonho and wrapped their arms around his torso. A lazy hand ran down his chest and defined abs. Not too much to Jooheon’s surprise, it was Yoo Kihyun, another friend and a doctor in the medical bay. So that was why Wonho had been finding every excuse to go there lately.

“Jooheonie.” Kihyun said with surprise, regaining his professional posture, though he didn’t remove his arms from around the older man’s waist. “Why are you here? You drop in 25 minutes.”

“He’s looking for I.M.” Wonho explained, patting the hand on his stomach and subtly lacing his fingers with Kihyun’s. “You haven’t happened to see him, have you?”

The black-haired, sharp-faced doctor shook his head. “No. But–I have heard people say that for the last month or so, he goes outside at night. To the lake.”

Jooheon abruptly remembered the last time they had drifted, and mentally rebuked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He had found out that his best friend took nightly trips to the small man-made lake just beyond the compound to watch the stars and moon, and also forget about the throbbing, sometimes excruciating, pain in his head, at the base of his brain. “Oh yeah. Say no more. Thanks.” He glanced between the two touchy boys at the door. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“It’s alright, Jooheon-ah.” Wonho smiled encouragingly. “Just, go find Changkyunie and whip some Kaiju ass…ok?”

“Will do, hyung.”

“We’ll be here for you when you return as heroes.” As the pilot stepped back and nodded, turning to go, Hoseok thought of one more thing and blurted, “Jooheonie?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please…not tell anyone?”

There it was. Jooheon knew that Wonho wasn’t oblivious to the state he was in. If that hadn’t done it, Kihyun’s loving gestures gave it away, and on top of that, Kihyun had placed himself straight behind Wonho because he was stark naked. It would take someone horribly stupid to not see the truth.

Jooheon smirked and nodded. “My lips are sealed.” Of course, there was also the drift, but Changkyun would totally understand. Both of them wanted Hoseok-hyung to be happy, and neither had ever seen him as radiant as he had been in the last few weeks. It was obvious, now, why that was.

With a final duck of his head to his hyungs, Jooheon took off in the direction of the exit.

Not too much later, he found his co-pilot sitting out on the end of the big dock, staring down into the water, tossing a little electronic thingy-or-other out across the lake, and catching it as it came back to him. He had invented it, probably. Jooheon couldn’t help but take a moment to stop and appreciate how ethereal Changkyun looked, sitting there with a leg up on the pier, gently bobbing up and down as the waves washed up against the floating walkway, and bathed in the light of the quarter-moon.

“Hyung.” Changkyun’s low voice rumbled as the older boy approached, and he tossed his creation out and bent his leg so that his co-pilot could sit beside him.

“Hey, Changkyunie.” Jooheon took the spot, content to relax a little and wait. He dipped a toe in the water, making ripples and watching them expand outward, the proverbial drop in the bucket of time or whatever that shit was.

Finally the older boy broke the silence. “Is it your head again?”

“It’s always my head.” Changkyun tapped the back of his neck, immediately above the first vertebrae. “Right there.”

“Yeah–I know, I felt it last drift. Weren’t you supposed to have an appointment in med bay about it?”

“I did.” Somewhere, a cricket stopped chirping, engulfing the boys in a moment of silence before another started up somewhere else. “Kihyun-ah–he and Hoseok are friends with benefits you know–ran some MRIs and told me that he’d see me again in a couple of days. He’s convincing, but couldn’t fool me. I know when a person’s beside himself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

A storm of anger clouded Changkyun’s face. “He was pitying me. Dammit, Jooheon, I wish I knew why.” For a brief moment, Changkyun tensed before he was pulling in huge breaths, letting them out, and lowly humming an indiscernible tune. His pre-combat destress routine, he called it. “But that’s not going to help me now. I’ve gotta relax.”

“So you know, then. About the Kaiju.”

Wordlessly, the younger boy lifted his phone, and pulling his earbuds out of the headphone jack, flipped on the screen and gave it a shake. Voices started blaring through the speaker: various people in command, lead techs, LOCCENT. Almost the moment he did, familiar codes and names came over the air.

“514-M. Where are J and I? They’re not in their room or in the DR [drivesuit room]. Alpha’s wondering as well. Over.”

“514-W to 514-M and 514-Alpha. I’ve seen them. They’ll be there on time. Give them space. Over.”

Jooheon chuckled and shook his head. “You scoundrel, hacking the shatterdome’s private channel.” They normally had access to the feed, too, but with a special pager that was currently sitting in a drawer somewhere back in their room and definitely not with something as insecure as a cellphone. The channel was hidden to standard searching devices and came up blank, but somehow Changkyun had managed to tweak the phone or find another devious, secret way to listen.

“I haven’t cracked the frequency that matters, though.”

“Huh? You mean the one that Marshal Hyunwoo supposedly uses to talk to H.One? You still really believe that fantasy of yours is real?”

“Then why do we have seven 514 codes? And the last one’s 514-H, huh?”

“That’s easy. It’s from when Hyunwoo wasn’t in high command yet. He was only given the title Alpha after that happened.”

“Bull. He was 514-S; that was struck from the book a long time ago.”

Jooheon groaned, throwing his head back and giving an exasperated huff. “Think about what you’re saying, Changkyun. Our hyung? Talking to the most wanted man in South Korea, the Kaiju Black Market head?”

“Our research division gets the fresh material it does somehow. Also there’s substantial evidence for the rumor that Hyunwoo has a tryst with H.One.”

“That’s all just flying pigs and fucking lies to try to tear the Marshal down, and you know it.”

Changkyun sighed; but more because he wanted quiet and peace than anything else closely related to ‘You’ve won this one’.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Jooheon’s momentary anger at his partner cooled at the memory of how intense his pain was. Yeah, this stupid Shownu and H.One thing had existed prior, but–Jooheon couldn’t stop his friend from thinking altogether. Perhaps it made him forget the throb in the back of his head for a while or the stress that it put on him to be so young and have to fight things that could rip him apart limb from limb like nothing. Jooheon certainly had those coping mechanisms, too: rap, for instance. The occasional broken toaster or coffee pot. Looking after wizard hacker Changkyun.

Finally, at long last, the older boy murmured, “Are you going to be ok to fly?”

Pressing his mouth into a line and sticking his tiny invention into his pocket, Changkyun nodded. “Yeah. I took some ibuprofen before I tried going to bed and I’ll have some more when we get back to the room.” He turned and pushed himself up, to his feet, holding out a hand for support as Jooheon stood. “I’ll be fine. Time to go draw some blue blood, yeah?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Just like Wonho had said, the two of them were right on time. Side by side they had their Drivesuits put on and stepped into the Conn-Pod. Once they were connected to the tangle of wires and metal comprising the command platform and feedback cradle, they made the drop onto Blind Rhythm’s nuclear-powered body. Jooheon and Changkyun felt themselves lock into the systems and start pulling weight with the Jaeger controls.

Not too long after that, a familiar, sunny voice crackled through the comms. “Welcome back, Blind Rhythm. Everything is looking smooth and clear and sunny…of course there’s no sun, but proverbially we’ll say–”

Changkyun groaned, glancing over at Jooheon and rolling his eyes. “We get it, Minhyuk…”

“Ahem. Yes. Right. Well, the Marshal is now on deck, let’s get this Kaiju taken care of. Neural Handshake initiating in five seconds: five, four, three–”

This was the moment of truth. Jooheon and Changkyun glanced at each other one last time before they got sucked into the drift. The familiar falling feeling washed over them, of floating through each other’s memories: old ones from their childhoods, new ones from tonight, and everything in between.

Finally they jerked back to the present. “Neural handshake holding, strong as ever…” Minhyuk noted, to be formal. For the Marshal, of course. The pilots swung into the calibration phase, before declaring that they were ready for combat, awaiting orders.

“Gentlemen, I hope you’re aware that this is a mother of a Kaiju.”

Gentle smiles spread on the faces of the two pilots at the sound of Marshal Hyunwoo’s voice. “Yes, we know that.” Jooheon responded with what they both were thinking.

“Good. Blitzkrieg is quickly approaching the miracle mile and seems to be heading for us; or, worse, Seoul. We can’t let it get past here. You are to dispatch it on sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

The huge steel doors of the coastal shatterdome pulled apart with a groan. Blind Rhythm stepped out onto the tarmac, then into the cold, dark, but calm sea, striding out into the water, fists clenched. Jooheon reached up for a moment to flip off the comms. “Changkyun, I don’t feel as much pain as last time, but the pressure’s there–are you ok?”

“Yes, hyung, I told you.”

The older boy’s eyes softened as he saw that his co-pilot was doing his best to contain his temper. “You realize that if you black out, I don’t think I can survive running this Jaeger by myself.”

Deep breaths, Changkyun. Ran through both of their heads. Then, You’ll still try, though, won’t you Jooheon?

I care about you, Kyunie. I’d die for you. That’s why, yes, I’ll try, if worse comes to worse. But we need to kill this motherfucking terror together.

A mile was nothing for a man as tall as a jaeger, and soon they were sitting in their target zone. “Ok Minhyuk, feed us things.” Changkyun said, eyes darting left and right. “Where is it?”

“It seems to be circling around; I think it’s sensed y–Oh, fuck!”

“What, Min–”

“It put on a burst of super speed–closing in on you, eleven o’clock–get out of the way, fast–!”

Blind Rhythm had just enough time to sidestep before a huge, black and blue figure emerged from the sea, mouth wide open and clawed arms extended. It missed, barely, and flew on past, landing back in the water, kicking up mist and waves as it swung around. A brief moment of calm passed. Both monster and mech seemed to be sizing each other up.

“Christ–you were right when you said it was a mother, Marshal,” Jooheon muttered in awe. In addition to being the largest Kaiju they had ever seen, Blitzkrieg was agile-looking. It was ugly, too, with the body of a big cat, a slender tail with a massive, clubbed end, and the face of a Gharial crocodile–except with more eyes and several layers of long, pointed teeth in its mouth. The beast growled ominously before opening its jaw wide and making another leap for Blind Rhythm.

“Arm razor!” Both boys shouted together and flicked their outside wrists. A gap opened up down the Jaeger’s arms; long, knife-like blades reaching from fist to shoulder slid out.

As the Kaiju landed on top and knocked them over into the water, Jooheon and Changkyun threw their first left hook. Though they were aiming for the neck, it nailed the beast in the side of the head instead. Not like that wasn’t as good of a hit, though. Blitzkrieg roared in pain and shook its head, backing off. The Jaeger managed to roll over (with some effort) and scrabbled back to its feet, water washing off of the gray hull.

They only had seconds before they were set on again, the stone-like mass on the Kaiju’s tail smashing into their side. Changkyun, the left hemisphere, cried out; the backwash of pain got Jooheon’s blood boiling.

“You–you son of a bitch!” The older boy roared and straightened, reaching out to grab the tail as it came around for another hit. “Give us that!” By then, Changkyun had recovered. Quickly he grabbed just below where Jooheon’s right hand was, flicking his wrist down. The sharp blade on the side of the Jaeger’s wrist sliced clean through, detaching the club.

The Kaiju’s roars were starting to become more angry than pained; but the two boys could tell that taking off the tail had hurt. Jooheon flung the dead flesh out to sea. Then at the sight of the beast’s gaping maw coming around to snap at them, he instinctively leaned in with a shoulder. The beast attached itself there, and this time the older pilot was the one to have white hot agony flash through him. He thought that he could feel the individual rows of teeth burrow in; the beast chewed a little. “Agh! This is your chance Changkyun!”

The younger boy gritted his teeth and put his arm up against the Kaiju’s exposed neck. Acidic blue blood started running down as the knives cut into its flesh.

As the monster reared back to get away, Jooheon summoned his strength and reached up, electrical wires sparking and popping, and grabbed onto the long jaw, pulling the whole beast back toward them and onto Changkyun’s arm. In one smooth, fluid motion the latter elbowed out, cutting deep, deep into a weak spot in the Kaiju’s armor. The only thing that stopped them from taking its head off completely was its spine.

Wheezing and unable to breathe, the Kaiju stepped back, knowing that it was at its end. Blood poured out of the gash the Jaeger had created. Together, Jooheon and Changkyun reached down and grabbed the snout once more, but from the underside, surging forward and pushing the beast back, bending its neck at an extreme angle. Moments later, a snap ripped through the air, and the beast hung lifeless in their grip. Everything was silent, except for the two pilots’ heavy breathing. Blue blood dripped from the Jaeger’s hands into the sea.

Then there was a cheer from LOCCENT, Minhyuk at the forefront of it. “Kaiju Blitzkrieg has been eliminated!“

“Good work, boys.” Marshal Hyunwoo told the two pilots. “Leave the body there, we’ll have a containment dome over it soon.”

Neither Jooheon nor Changkyun spoke to each other as they strode back through the water to the shatterdome. They really didn’t need to; they knew what was running through each other’s heads. Shock lingered from everything that had just happened–and so fast.

Techs were swarming all over the damaged mech almost the moment that it reached the bay and powered down. When the pilots stepped out of the conn-pod onto the high walkway, Wonho was waiting, a huge grin on his face. His collared uniform covered up the area where Jooheon knew Kihyun’s bruises had turned purple. “Congrats guys.”

“Thank you Hoseok.” Jooheon nodded to their friend and grinned.

But Changkyun said nothing, just shuffled and stared at the floor, rocking on the balls of his feet. For some reason, after being in a Jaeger, pilots could still often feel what the other was thinking even after the neural handshake broke. The first pilots had called it a Post-drift hangover, and the name stuck. The raging one Jooheon had now told him everything.

The painkillers were wearing off, and the throb in the back of the younger boy’s head was now unbearable. He felt like he was about to black out, but determinedly he kept himself upright. It took all his strength. He hadn’t even noticed Hoseok standing there.

Behavior like this wasn’t normal for Changkyun, and Wonho quickly picked up that something was wrong. He made a worried face and tilted his head quizzically at Jooheon.

“It’s ok.” the chubby-cheeked pilot reached over and placed a hand gently on his best friend’s shoulder. The younger boy looked up at him, in the eyes. Pain was evident on Changkyun’s face, and sunk deep into his irises. “Maybe something happened during the drift, I should take him to the med bay–”

At ‘med bay’, Changkyun seemed to come alive, and he shrugged off the hand, cutting in almost defensively, “No. I’m fine. I just need a little while.” Jooheon could see him fill up his lungs all the way, and then with a calmer tone, addressed their hyung. “Yes, thank you, Hoseok. Please take care of her.”

“I’ll do my best.” Wonho nodded, knowing full well that he was referring to the Jaeger. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes.” Exasperation seeped back into the maknae’s tone. “I just need out of this drivesuit.” He started pulling at the release latch for the spinal clamp, behind his head.

“Changkyunie,” someone called from down the walkway, and Minhyuk came jogging to them. “Wait, let’s get back to the DR.”

The tall, slender LOCCENT officer led them there, but they made slow progress. Jooheon had to catch Changkyun on his shoulder, after the latter stumbled and almost fell in the hallway. Quietly, so that Minhyuk wouldn’t hear, Jooheon prodded his co-pilot, “Why won’t you let me take you to the medical bay? You need it.”

Changkyun let out a labored sigh. “I don’t want them looking at me.”

“We can ask for Kihyunie. You trust his hands, don’t you?”

Weakly, the younger boy shook his head. “You know, I told you earlier that Kihyun was pitying me? Everyone there looks at me like that. I don’t want to go.”

Right about that time, they reached the drivesuit room and Minhyuk turned to help them. Jooheon motioned that his co-pilot should get help first. Minhyuk only nodded and settled Changkyun down into a chair. In no time his slender, deft fingers had pulled the release. After that, the circuitry suit zipper only needed to be undone before he could slide out of the battle armor.

Soon enough Jooheon was out, too, leaving both boys in underwear only. Changkyun tried getting into habit, but his best friend stopped him and gently pried the clothes from his hands, handing him a different set instead.

If anyone saw them as they went back to their room, no one interrupted. Jooheon wondered if it was a funny sight: one chubby cheeked boy in uniform, carrying another on his shoulders. The passenger wasn’t in uniform but instead in a pair of athletic shorts and a hole-ridden tee shirt. His arms and legs wrapped around the other, and his eyes drooped closed involuntarily.

Jooheon could feel Changkyun’s thoughts blank in and out as he succumbed to a mixture of pain and exhaustion. At long last he could set his co-pilot down in his bed. Jooheon pulled the sheets over the younger boy, and sat there a minute to rub his forehead before Changkyun’s consciousness flicked off for good.

The two pilots slept for a long time, and woke up feeling at least better about the kill they had managed to pull off. After that, a couple of days passed slowly. Changkyun still had excruciating pain, but the day-to-day routine they resumed, packed full of training, conditioning, and downtimes with friends, made it not as bad.

Jooheon couldn’t help worrying constantly about his best friend. He had never considered himself to be an anxious person, but now that Changkyun was struggling to live normally, he found that it was so easy to get that nauseous feeling at the thought of how sad and in pain the younger boy was. It ate at Jooheon. All he could do to keep himself level was stick to his own routine.

One evening, Jooheon returned to their bunk around six pm to discover that Changkyun wasn’t there. He hadn’t seen him in any of the usual places, so he had assumed the younger boy had already returned here. Jooheon’s stomach dropped, but he somehow managed to convince himself that it wasn’t reason to worry. Faintly, he remembered that Kihyun had called Changkyun back and asked him if he would be willing to meet for an appointment at five. Of course, Kyunie had agreed, and that was probably where he was now.

Changing into some comfy jeans and a black tee, Jooheon lounged at his desk. Taking out some clamps and screwdrivers, he busied himself in pulling apart a blender that he had found abandoned in a hallway. Many people in the shatterdome knew Jooheon’s talent for mechanics and so trusted him with various repairs. After realizing that he was being called on more and more, he started charging a small fee for his services. He also picked up appliances sometimes and worked on them, cleaning them for resale or personal use. The almost-mindless work kept his brain occupied and wiped away the stress of the day.

The next time Jooheon looked up, the digital clock on the wall said 11:00, and the ranger’s eyes widened.

His next thought was the realization that Changkyun still wasn’t back. If he was going to sleep tonight, he would have been here long ago. Instantly, Jooheon knew where he would more than likely be. He still went out to the lake lots of times. Often Jooheon would let him have his peace, but considering that Kyunie had met with Kihyun today…a feeling deep in the pit of the older boy’s stomach urged him to go.

So minutes later, Jooheon found himself out in the night air, hands in pockets, wandering out to the water’s edge. It was a nice evening, but for some reason the wind chilled him more than normal.

Changkyun was sitting in his usual spot: on the dock, both feet over the edge, motionless. So motionless in fact that Jooheon wondered for a moment if he was asleep. But as he heard his hyung’s footsteps approach, the younger boy turned his head to see who was there and tried his hardest to smile.

With a jolt, Jooheon realized that his best friend was paler than the moonlight that shone down on him. The chubby-cheeked ranger plopped down next to Changkyun, their hips pressed together, body heat warming each other up.

For a moment, sitting like this, neither spoke.

“Is it your head again?”

Changkyun smiled weakly and laughed a little. “It’s always my head.” giving the tiniest hint of a sly grin, he lifted his hand and tapped the usual spot. “Right there.”

Jooheon didn’t have the heart to continue on. Nor did he know how to. Another long moment of silence reigned, expectant silence, unsure silence.

“Jooheonie, I’m dying.”

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[SF] the intro to a story I'm currently writing. It's just the beginning to sort of set the tecnalogical standered of the time but I feel as if it's still enjoyably any advice would be appreciated {story name} Endless. Ps this is my first post so apologies if I did something wrong.

Its a cold winter day the sound of metal clanging and machinery rings through the surrounding world. An alarm goes off emitting a loud buzzing sound. Tommy wakes...outside there is shouting he groans as he pushes up of his bed and slides to the side steadying himself allowing his senses to adjust. A buzzing power up sound is emitted again as his neural interface powers up. A blue bar flashes across his retina showing his basic bodily functions and how effective they are today. A male robotic voice inside tommys head greets him Morning tommy no infections or sickness is detected although you are mildly dehydrated and fatigued i recommend a coffee which i have already prepared downstairs for you. Thanks maz will do. Tommy pushes of his bed and stumbles towards his window to see what the shouting is about. As he pulls up his blinds bright rays of red sunlight shoot through his window blinding him as his retina implants begin adjusting to the light things become clearer as he pulls open his window the shouting is amplified and echoes around his room from the alley outside. Looking down he sees a man holding a sharp piece of glass wrapped in cloth and is holding it to a woman ordering her to drop her purse and leave. She hesitates and he begins to become more agitated as he is aware she is just stalling. He raises his voice further along with this shard of glass sunlight reflects through it as he holds it in the air ready to strike. I swear bitch drop it now ill fucking cut you right here !!! He screams a slight quiver in his voice as he ends his sentence. He's afraid tommy thought...i better help just to buy time...hey asshole !! The man turns and looks up at me in my apartment window on the 7th floor I just stare and smile. His face turns from fear to confusion as he grips the knife harder in his hand he looks back at his prey without saying a word to me. The woman has at this point moved back a few steps stumbling when the man looks back to her. His eyes sharpen and you can see the adrenaline coursed through him aaaany second now tommy thought. The man rushes the woman she turns and runs towards the end of the alley were she slips on a sleek plate of metal that had fallen out of a bag of electrical parts. She hit the ground with a mild thump and turned to face her attacker. He was only a few feet away now. Just as she was about to scream the loud sound of thrusters echoed through the city block surrounding them. The man stopped in his tracks dropped the knife. He looked at the woman then at me. Pure terror on his face before turning and attempting to run out the alley. Suddenly a thick cloud of hot plasma comes burning towards the ground in front of the man and a loud metallic impact is made on the concrete surface cracking the pavement around it. The smoke clears and there stands a tall humanoid robot with a set of magnetic cuffs strapped to his back. Dam they really did make those things bigger again this one has to be no shorter than 7 feet tall. The robot towered over the man and a harsh robotic voice bellowed from the machine...Anon jackson age 24 the robot continued to name of his home address parents and home planet. please cooperate and hand yourself over without any aggressive actions your cooperation will be taken into account during your sentence. Anon collected himself and walked slowly toward the machine looking to the floor in defeat. As he approached his head shot up then back down again almost surveying his surroundings one last time. Before shooting off past the robot. His panting growing as he ran down the alley the robot patiently watched him run past simply turning its head to watch him run. Anon looked back at the robot with a grin on his face as he ran. Just as he looks back a second time the magnetic cuffs on the bots back detach hover for a second open up and start hurling themselves towards Anon. His grin quickly turns back to terror as he picks up his pace but to no avail. The cuffs expand in mid air increasing in length until they are now long enough to wrap around the whole of the man's body. The cuffs slam against Adons back with force wrapping their arms around his waist and trapping his arms by his side. Now immobilised part of the cuffs break off and crawl down his leg creating a leg cuff that wraps around his ankles. The giant approaches the now subdued man with a slow almost cocky walk. It slows hovering over adon like a mountain over a valley. adon stops struggling and looks up at the bot and whimpers as it looks down at him. He then begins to continue struggling. The machines voice appears again and begins to read him his rights. Adon is too preoccupied however trying to worm his way out of the cuffs. Once finished the bot asks adon to stop resisting or action will be taken to subdue him further Adon stops almost comically looks at the bot then continues to struggle. The bots voice echoes. '! very well' and an electrical current is shot through adons body making him completely limp with paralysis his eyes still darting around the alley. The bot reassures the woman and begins to speak. This time its voice is friendly and inviting. Are you okay mam. She timiy replies yes….sir t th thank you...your heart rate is still hight may i recommend using breathing techniques to calm yourself would you like me to assist you. No! the woman replies still in a mouseish manner she seems more scared of the machine then the man. No wonder her heart rate is still so high look at the thing they aren't really built to be inviting. I recommend consulting your neural ai as to what the best course of action is in regards to your mental state traumatic events such as this can cause deep neurological damage the robot explained. Yes ...yes thank you…..the robot walked back to Adon turned around as the magnetic.cuffs shot up with there propulsion system holding Adons limp body up to the back of the robot and attaching themselves to the machine. The robots legs opened up and he crouched down and a large bang was heard as smoke filled the alley.

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abdulrahman79-blog · 7 years

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Headlines June 22 Headlines from Nigeria’s Major Newspapers NATION *Governors tell agitators: Nigeria must remain one *Why govt appealed Saraki’s acquittal * Over 300 houses affected in Ibadan flood, says NEMA *$1.2b: Banks seek Etisalat’s probe *NCC, CBN wade into Etisalat debt crisis *PDP commends Osinbajo on tension-dousing steps * Woman catches 50yr-old lover raping her 15yr-old daughter * Ogun govt to residents: Vacate areas near Ogun River, others *Police parade dad, son, six others over killing of APC chief *‘No Lassa fever outbreak at Achievers Varsity’ *Ondo APC exco to Kekemeke: resign *Quit order: U.K. hails Osinbajo *FEC okays ministerial retreat to end education crises *ARG seeks acceptable constitution for sustainable nationhood *Youths write US over IPOB’s suit against army *Threat to life: Ikpeazu petitions IGP over Nwosu’s allegations *IPOB to boycott Anambra, 2019 polls *Ayade has a large heart, says Ita-Giwa *I didn’t give my land to Catholic Church, says widow, 82 *El-Rufai denies awarding contracts to wife, cronies *Fed Govt, Germany sign 10m euros polio aid agreement *Obaseki appoints Ihonvbere, Thisday Editor, five others Special Advisers *Aregbesola cautions US over Trump’s decision on climate change *Amaechi completed Omehia’s projects, says Peterside *INEC receives signatories on Dino Melaye’s recall *Akintola: I’ll sustain Ajimobi’s legacies *Alleged money laundering: Fani-Kayode challenges court’s jurisdiction to try him *How Badeh funded N1.2b shopping complex, by witness *‘Map territorial waters for improved security’ *Fayose holds rally on 2014 election victory *Eid-el-Fitri: Osun offers free ride *Makarfi faction condemns hate speeches *Why Nigerians are angry, by Onaiyekan *French firm to partner DICON LEADERSHIP *Borno, Boko Haram And Politics *Govt Needs To Improve On The Welfare Of Youth Corp Members Time To Be Sober *NUJ Inaugurates LEADERSHIP Chapel *SIP Abacus Proffers Solutions To Learning Mathematics *Abuja DISco Opens Training Facility For Staff At N10, 000m/Annum *FRSC to Introduce Safety Studies in Public Schools *A/Ibom To Partner German Firm on Youth Vocational Training *Bank of Industry Seeks Partnership With Edo State Government *Biafra Agitation : We Believe In Sovereignty Of Nigeria- BNDU *Recession: INEC Warns Against Diaspora Election In 2019 *NOUN Admits Learners Of All Ages – Centre Director *W/Bank Proposes N600m To Assist OOSC In N/East-UBEC *NHIS: N351bn Premium Not Commiserate To Services – Minister *Nigeria Police Key To Regional Peace, Stability – IGP Idris Kaduna Govt. Denies Spending N3bn On Drainage Works *Acting President’s Meeting With State Governors *N4.9bn Fraud: Fani-Kayode Asks Lagos Court To Transfer Trial To Abuja *Kidnapping: Police Call For Review Fire Arms Act *Blame Society For Corruption, Says Sokoto NBA Chairman DAILY TRUST *Kogi tertiary institutions suspend strike *FG congratulates Nigerians in UK Parliament *Agitations: Don't play politics with security, Osinbajo tells govs *VIDEO: The President cannot see every thing- Senator Sunmonu *Police Academy violating rights of Muslim cadets, group alleges *Breaking #IgboQuit: Osinbajo meets governors *Indonesia to build 10,000 barrels per day refinery in Nigeria *How federal character violation fuels agitations –Onaiyekan *Anambra police arrest 11 robbers, recover weapons *FG, UNIDO move to tackle foodborne illnesses in Nigeria *Exam bodies to manage needs of physically-challenged candidates *Students told to adopt prosocial behaviour *‘Educating young minds against radicalism more effective to defeat terrorism’ *Nasarawa e-libraries to serve 1.9m users *17 Nigerian scholars move to Brazil *FUT Minna donates police post to host community *APC not well — Kwankwaso *Makarfi calls for democratic approach to Biafra *Forget your presidential ambition, Shehu Sani tells El-rufai *Anambra: 600, 000 voters risk disenfranchisement — CLO *Transforming Nigeria’s companies Registry *Nigeria breaks: Why and why not? *KDSG’s sack of district, village heads *Keeping clear of Frankenstein *Who will save Imo State? *NCX: BPE gives Lead Capital 60-day deadline *Oil price hits 7-month low at $45.5 *Banks want Etisalat $1.2bn loan probed *Investors dump banking stock as equity loses N311bn *SEC commends DMO, CBN, PENCOM on N100bn Sukuk offering VANGUARD *Doctor, Friend, Sympathisers Fund 3-inch-nail-in-the-head Boy’s Operation * NAPTIP Arrests Another Human Trafficker In Edo *Salem Varsity Alumni Trace Success Story To Alma Mater * 50-yr-old Defiles Lover’s 15-month-old Child In Bayelsa * Alleged N3.1bn Fraud: Court Defers Suswam’s Trial Till Sept 28 *Respect Law On Masts, Wike Charges Telecom Operators *Trainees Ground Chevron’s EGTL Operations *LASU Inter-varsity Debate Espouses Not Too Young To Run Bill * Lassa Fever Confirmed In Ondo Private Varsity, Communities *Quit Notice: UK High Commission Commends FG’s Proactive Measure, Calls For Calm *International Intelligence Cooperation Aided Evans’ Arrest — IGP *IBADAN FLOODING: Ajimobi Reads Riot Act To House Owners, Sympathises With Victims * Mbaise USA Takes Free Health To Rural Communities *World Bank Approves $961m Credit For FG’s ERGP *CBN Orders Lenders To Maintain Status Quo On Etisalat Indebtedness *5 Seriously Annoying Things Nigerians Do After An Accident *Recession: Aba Artisans Can Help Revive Economy — CBN *Fayose To Run For Presidency In 2019, Says Buhari Has Failed Nigerians *Quit Notice: No Going Anywhere, Ndigbo Vow *$3m Bribery Scandal: ICPC Gets Nod To Re-arraign Farouk Lawan, July 5 *Facts Versus Fiction: Why Obama Worked Against Jonathan In 2015 – Omokri *Nigeria To Witness More Malaria Cases As Mosquitoes Develop Resistance *Naira Stable At N364/$ *We‘ll Deploy Govt’s Apparatus Against Those Threatening Nigeria…, Osinbajo Tells Traditional Rulers *Herdsmen On Rampage As Govts Continue To Delay GUARDIAN *Confederations Cup: Ronaldo strikes as Portugal down Russia *Peralta seals Mexico's comeback win over Kiwis *Kogi tertiary institutions workers suspend five-month-old strike *Absence of Metuh’s counsel stalls trial *Etisalat: Banks may demand investigation of $1.2b loan *May apologises for response to London tower block fire *Trump aide Kushner meets Israeli leader Netanyahu *Absence of witness stalls Suswam's arraignment *British ex-spy boss says new US world role threat to security *Afrobeat or Afrobeats: What’s in a name? *Saudi King removes crown prince from post *SON discovers N8 Billion worth of fake cables in Lagos *Ekiti governorship race - Aspirants step down for Fayose *Monaco raid Barca for starlet Mboula *Di María given fine for Spanish tax fraud *Man Utd boss Mourinho refutes tax fraud accusations *Banned Valcke gets October CAS appeal date *Germany vs Chile: Heavyweights clash at Confederations Cup *Murray faces confidence crisis after Queen's shocker *Power sector loses N1.43 billion in one day to gas, grid constraints *Industrial pharmacists to harmonise data for sectoral growth *Corruption, bad roads bane of businesses at Nigerian ports *BoI to disburse interest-free loan scheme for women THISDAY *Study: Famine Looms in Nigeria, Yemen, Somalia *CBN Engages Ogun Farmers, SME Operators on Financial Inclusion *Keystone Bank Restates Support for SMEs *Conoil Records N2.8bn Profit, to Pay N2.2bn Dividend *‘Nigeria Needs $1.4bn to Purchase STBs for Digital Switch Over’ *Minister Facilitates $4bn Telecoms Investment to Nigeria *‘Network Incompatibility with IPv6 Poses Threat to ICT Devt’ *MainOne Suffers Cable Default, Appeals to Customers *ITS Rolls Out Digital Terrestrial Television in Kwara State *Partner Mobile Unveils PS 3 Phone on First Anniversary *Jidenma Foundation Announces Utomi as Chairman *Cars45, Automedics Africa Partner to boost Job Creation *Firm Introduces Tech Solar Energy *Auto Dealers Partner Police, Media Concepts on Security *Ad Practitioners Applaud FG on Executive Orders *Nigeria to Benefit from Free Trade Agreement with China *Nigeria’s Quest for Digital Switch Over *Afiegbe: Digital Pay Solutions Will Boost Digital Transformation "Targeting Seamless Trade Finance Operations *Innovation as a Launch Pad for Growth *Cisco Unveils Adaptive, Evolving Network *Leveraging Sponsorship for Brand Positioning *Blood Donors as Life Savers *Healthcare Funding: Partners are No Replacement for Govt, Says Ene *Oyibo: Access to Diagnosis Key to Malaria Treatment *PMGMAN Lauds Govt Decision on Local Vaccines Production *PFD Initiative Provides Succour for Ibadan Residents *Serah, Who Stools Through a Bag, Needs N10m to Treat Colorectal... *May & Baker Service Awards: PSN Push for Integrity and Service *5,000 Babies Undergo Sickle Cell Screening in Anambra *Osinbajo, Amosun, Others Commend Hayat Kimya’s $100million Investment *CADP: Establishing an Enduring Agric Legacy *The Ills of Excessive Alcohol Consumption *The Lord is My Shepherd… *Grudging Admiration *Isong: Now is Time to Restructure *UNICEF Launches G4G, Calls for Female Empowerment through Education *Unizik Lecturer Urges National Assembly Not to Pass NCR Bill *Vets Call for Hygienic Packaging of Meat in Lagos Markets *Can Regional Autonomy Prevent Nigeria’s Breakup? *MAN: Improved Patronage of Local Products’ll Boost Industrial Devt, Economy *Pharmacists Council Registers 21,892 Pharmacists in 2016 *CISLAC Laments Alleged Poor Handling of High Profile Corruption Cases *CEI Provides Succour to the Elderly through Free Medical Outreach *Lagos Secures $100m from French Agency for Urban Projects *It’s Too Risky to Restructure Now, Says Adeyemo *Starvation in a Land of Plenty *Wednesday 21st June 2017 *INCESSANT COLLAPSE OF BUILDINGS *Implement Anti-Tobacco Laws Yourself, FG Charged PUNCH *We’ve resolved Nigeria must not break, say governors *W’Bank approves $961m for Nigeria’s economic recovery plan *Melaye’s recall: Constituents submit six bags of signatures to INEC *Police dismiss ACP, three ASPs for indiscipline *I authorised FG appeal against Saraki’s acquittal, says AGF *Lagos plans radio stations for 20 LGAs *Lassa fever hits Ondo, five cases recorded *Fayose holds victory rally, accuses Buhari of nepotism *Growing population of IDPs in N’East alarming, says UN *Lagos policeman allegedly caught extorting money with POS *Kidnappers write to another Lagos school, vow to abduct pupils *Lagos policeman allegedly caught extorting money with POS *Suspected cult members set house ablaze, kill three *Islamic Wills – Structure and Importance *Ibadan flooding: Residents count losses *Truck avoiding govt official kills tricycle rider in Imo *50-year-old nabbed for defiling 15-month-old baby *We’ve resolved Nigeria must not break, say governors *N381bn health insurance fund: Minister, NHIS, HMOs trade words *Senate plans bill to check high house rents *Stop pasting 2019 posters for me – Niger gov *Yoruba don’t need to meet Osinbajo – ARG *N4.9bn fraud: Don’t try me in Lagos, Fani-Kayode insists *Father, son abducted, killed Ondo APC chief – Police *Don advocates e-voting for pre-2019 elections **Indonesian firm to build refinery in Nigeria *Wike opposes NLNG Act amendment *Tornadoes return to Minna in August *Athletes tackle UNIPORT over NUGA allowances *How to manage time at work *Strategy for building consulting business *W’Bank approves $961m for Nigeria’s economic recovery plan *NNPC sustains losses, records N39.3bn deficit in four months *Agricultural finance fund closes at $65.9m, says FG TELEGRAPH *Father to Ambode: Help! My son needs N5m for heart surgery *Faceless groups attacking my achievements – Okowa *Bayelsa Revenue Board seals firm over N109.5m tax default *Edo, BoI to partner on key areas for growth *Misconduct: Police Commission dismisses ACP,3 ASPs GOD BLESS NIGERIA

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