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Details: Mike Hanlon

These are a bunch of facts about Mike that I’ve gathered from the book with quotes to support them! (Sorry, no page number citations, I like keeping some sanity.)

- he loves spring, and he heavily associates it with spending time with his dad.

[”Spring’s here again. We’re all waking up. And in his soul he would raise a silent cheer that shook the walls of that mostly cheerful room. He felt love for everything around him, and most of all for his dad…”]

[”Spring’s here again, thank You God, thank You very much.”]

[”Spring was a busy time, but it was a good time.”]

- he’s left handed!

[”Mike Hanlon’s writing was large and awkward because he was lefthanded and the angle was bad for him.”]

- he loved peanut butter and onion sandwiches, much to the chagrin of his mother.

[”…he was particularly partial to peanut-butter-and-onion sandwiches, a taste that made his mother raise her hands in helpless horror…”]

- he never quite finishes grieving over his father’s death– or the way that he went.

[”I got reading… and surprised myself by bursting into tears over my father, who has now been dead for twenty-three years.”]

[”But I was most afraid that no matter what shape It took, It would have my father’s cancer-raddled face.”]

[”…it seemed to me then and it seems to be now that when a man or woman goes it should be a quick thing. The cancer was doing more than killing him. It was degrading him, demeaning him.”]

- he played football in high school.

[”Mike Hanlon wove his way through them as he would later weave his way through the opposing lines of nearly a dozen high school football teams…”]

[”in high school he would make the varsity football team as a tailback his sophomore year, and was only kept from breaking the school’s all-time scoring record by a broken leg halfway through his senior season.”]

- and played the trombone in his church school’s band.

[”The Church School had a band in which Mike played the trombone.”]

[”Although his trombone playing was not much better than Richie’s Voices, he was fond of the instrument, and whenever he felt blue a half hour of foghorning Sousa marches, hymns, or patriotic airs cheered him right up again.”]

- Mike considered publishing his historical findings on Derry, Pennywise, and the story of the Losers.

[”The segment below and all other Interlude segments are drawn from ‘Derry: An Unauthorized Town History,’ by Michael Hanlon. This is an unpublished set of notes and accompanying fragments of manuscript… found in the Derry Public Library Vault. The title given is the one written on the cover of the looseleaf binder in which these notes were kept prior to their appearance here. The author, however, refers to the work several times as ‘Derry: A Look Through Hell’s Back Door.’ One supposes the thought of popular publication had done more than cross Mr. Hanlon’s mind.”]

- as an adult, he’s interested in one of his co-workers.

[”I joke with Carole Danner about how much I would like to go to bed with her, and she jokes back about how much she’d like to go to bed with me, and both of us know that she’s really joking and I’m really not…”]

- he wears glasses as an adult.

[”I lie there in bed wearing my conservative blue pajamas, my spectacles neatly folded up and lying on the nighttable next to the glass of water I always put there…”]

- he tends to get stuck on things when fixated on them.

[”But I’m doing my own Bill Denbrough here, stuttering over the same ground again and again, reciting a few facts and a lot of unpleasant… suppositions, growing more and more obsessive with every paragraph.”]

[”I’m doing it again. Going over and over the same ground, doing nothing constructive, only cranking myself up to the screaming point.”]

- he attended the University of Maine, but otherwise never really spent any time outside of Derry.

[”I was born here, in Derry Home Hospital; attended Derry Elementary School; went to junior high at Ninth Street Middle School; to high school at Derry High. I went to the University of Maine–‘ain’t in Derry, but it’s just down the rud,’ the old timers say–and then I came right back here. To the Derry Public Library.”]

- Henry Bowers hates him the most out of all the losers, because of his race and also because of their familes’ history of conflict (that stems from racism). (Basically, racism^2.)

[”One day when we got up, there was a swastika painted on the side of the chickenhouse and all the chickens were dead. Someone had poisoned their feed. …And who do you think it was? …Why it was Butch Bowers, that’s who!]

[”So I got my two hundred dollars and Butch swore he was going to burn me out. …So I caught up with him one afternoon. …I cut him off on Witcham Street… and got out with my Winchester rifle.”]

[”Well, I’d had enough of the whole thing, Mikey. And I knew if I didn’t scare him off for good right then I’d never be shed of him.”]

[”[Will] had once taken Butch Bowers by the hair and jammed his rifle into the shelf of his chin and demanded of Butch to be left alone.”]

[”Butch Bowers associated his financial, physical, and mental decline with the Hanlon family in general…”]

[I’m not going to put the direct quote for this because it contains about 7 repetitions of the n-word but basically Butch constantly insists to Henry that any inconvenience they experience is Will Hanlon’s fault.]

- Mike does the exhibits for the Canal Days Museum.

[“A Canal Days Museum was installed in three empty storefronts downtown, and filled with exhibits by Michael Hanlon…”]

- He was/presumably is Baptist

[”His mother was a devout Baptist and Mike was therefore sent to the Neibolt Street Church School.”]

- As a kid, he’s physically described as follows

[”In 1958 Mike was slim and well built, taller than Stan Uris but not quite as tall as Bill Denbrough. He was fast and agile…”]

- As an adult, he’s 5’ 7"

[I literally can’t find the quote for this y'all just gonna have to trust me. Cyan not sus just go with it. If I find it I’ll come back with an edit.]

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-Being on fire is my desired aesthetic

-Using your hands for a gun is lame. Use your feet instead.

-Waluigi SIR that is very bad etiquette

-You’ve just had a missile thrown in your face. How do you feel?                            Like GOD

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46. Mid-fight

Ask meme

Tw for violence, fighting, mild swearing and blood + bruising !!!

The male was out of breath, hiding behind a wall of scalding hot pipes, the steam creating a fog within the room. He clutched his sidearm tightly, knuckles pale as he glanced to his side. This was the first time he’d felt like he was losing a fight, Rex Dasher never lost, even in the most dire moments. 

He could hear gruff voices calling out to each other, they were trying to find out where he was hiding. Any moment they’d be here..

Suddenly, Rex heard grunts and the sound of heavy objects slamming into the metal walls, and braced himself for a larger enemy with immense strength.

“Rex Dasher, it seems I’m saving your ass again.”

A familiar voice called from the hallway, and the young man turned to see Ford standing in the hallway, blood dripping from their nose, a pair of brass knuckles in their hand. Their brown hair was messy, falling over their eyes as they laughed.

“I know, no need to be so surprised. Now c’mon, we can’t stand here forever.”

They rolled their eyes, and Rex blinked a couple of times. After a moment, Rex practically ran at the taller individual, pressing his lips against theirs. This took Ford back, but they certainly weren’t complaining. Their lips tasted like copper, and when they pulled away, Rex had a bit of blood on his own mouth.

The secret agent took a step back, dusting his suit jacket off, clearing his throat.

“I-It’s good to see you.”

He said, averting his eyes, which made Ford smirk, their eyes softening.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Their cheeks were flushed, and they wiped some blood from their face, spitting it onto the ground. Rex smiled a little bit, and together they left the agency building, emergency lights flashing in the darkness.

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Roman: *holding his nerf gun while sitting at the table*

Patton: Roman, put that away. The table is no place for a Nerf war.

Roman: But then they’ll all get me!

Patton: Who?

Roman: The dark sides!

Patton, summoning a bucket: War weapons go in the bin.

Roman, Virgil, Remus, and Janus: *put their Nerf guns in the bucket*

Patton: *pulls Virgil’s jeans up over his ankle to expose another, much smaller, Nerf gun* All of them.

Virgil: *angrily hands him that one and then takes his jacket off and begins to take out several hidden Nerf guns holstered inside*

Roman: Wow, you’re better equipped than me!

Virgil: Perks of being anxious. Over-planning.

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my day has been fucking awful. some dickhead kid has been harassing me and my partner all day because they got banned from our MINECRAFT SERVER because they were disrespecting staff and fuckin griefed a bunch of towns.

since 2pm this afternoon i’ve been contacted on instagram 5 times i have been

  • been “doxxed”
  • had to contact and file a claim with discord that the kid violated TOS by trying to threaten me with my information
  • called the F-slur multiple times
  • threatened with a video of a woman because SHOT IN THE HEAD
  • been told it’ll all stop if i apologize
  • had to IP ban multiple spoofed accounts that have griefed and spammed the chat with “[PARTNERS NAME] AND LAURYN I WILL GET YOU F****TS”
  • had my partner told that the person harassing us will hurt me if he doesn’t apologize
  • been continuously messaged via instagram with threats and vague messages saying i can’t get rid of them

my partner reported this to the police, and we’re contacting their internet provider tomorrow. more than likely will file my own police report because this is, while still fake and just harassment, scary as hell.

it’s invasive, i’m on edge, and have been all day, i literally was sent a clip of a woman being shot and then was spammed with “die (x6)”!! this kid can’t get me but god i’ve got bipolar my paranoia is bad already this is just adding to it!

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date: june 11th
location: capulet territory
status: @evcravens

December. They had last stepped foot on Cosimo Capulet’s property in December (or rather, been dragged, to it) when the air still bit at heaving lungs and the cold caressed rattling bones. It felt right to Marcelo that they would return now, as summer shook the snow from its yawning head, on both legs, swiftly, and without a weakness reflected on their steely surface. Still, as if to prove it, the captain takes the steps two at a time — no one was around to hear the slap of their sole hitting the pavement, after all. Only the ghosts of Verona, and those that ventured into its shadows in search of them, might catch a glimpse of Marcelo, now. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour, and lights had only just began to flicker to life across the city. 

The door closes quietly begin them, and they make quick work of snapping the lock back into place. It had taken all but one concentrated moment for them to shimmy it open to begin with, before briskly slipping up to the dark of the building’s rooftops. It had been quiet on the streets from above, a stray drunk stumbling across cement every so often, but they’d be a fool to think it would stay that way for long. With everything carefully propped back into place, Marcelo turns away from their vantage point, and with hands shoved in each pocket, begins their walk back to the adige.  

This part of the city is only familiar on fire, rattled by deafening gunshots. Marcelo knows it on paper, squiggly lines to mark roads and blue blobs signaling bodies of water, but intimately they had only traveled its streets the night of The Purge, or while watching the Cathedral smolder on its holy ground. Marcelo had been born on Montague territory, and their bones would be buried beneath its soil — still, it was surely only a matter of time before this side of the Castelvechhio, too, beat in the pulse of their veins, held by the throat in Roman’s royal fist. 

Acutely, Marcelo begins to realize that they’re not alone. An echo, here, a hovering gaze, hot on the slope of their shoulders, there. There might be a strangeness to its streets, but the captain is vividly familiar with the beasts that walk them. 

In one swift turn, Marcelo has fingers lingering on the handle of their pistol, teeth bared at the face that dares pierce their sharpened gaze into the flesh of a Rosso.

Figlio di puttana.” 

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Here’s a little thing my brain just thought of:

They were seated in a dark room in a chair, with the cold barrel of a gun pressed to their temple. A deep masculine voice soon spoke, “Do it.”

They began to sing Never Gonna Give You Up By Rick Ashley and Rick Roll

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Get ready for a ride. Also I may forget some stuff so sorry. There’s also a video if you want that too

His father left him and his mother because his mother was schizophrenic. He’s also a genius with eidetic memory who graduated high school at 12 (where he was bullied and tormented) and then going to Caltech. He joined the BAU at the FBI where he got a found family. He was abducted where he was tortured and then injected with an addictive drug which he became addicted to before getting sober (in reality they just kind of dropped the story line). He got anthrax poisoning and thought he was going to die. But he didn’t! His father figure left just like his dad! He got shot in the leg. He got headaches and hallucinations at one point. His friend that he thought was dead because they had a whole ass funeral for her was actually alive and undercover. Oh and when he thought she was dead he had cravings for drugs again. He found someone who he loved and the first time he sees her in person he watches her die because her stalker. Later he gets shot in the neck and after that he lost a mother figure. He finds out the father figure that left is dead. There are issues with his mother’s schizophrenia and alzheimer’s. The stalker from earlier that killed the girl he watched die? Her lover comes back later and kidnaps his mom oh also he’s in jail for going to Mexico to get illegal drugs for his mom’s health. He was proven innocent but in order to save his mom he has to talk to the stalkers girlfriend. Oh and he found out he was sexually assaulted when he was drugged! Later on he gets kidnapped by a religious cult and manages to break his friend who was also kidnapped out but stays so she can get away. There’s a lot more but this is getting really long

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[ Video transcript: There is a image of IAMX ‘’Volatile Times’’ album cover. The songs in it are listed by the side, playing 05. ‘’Bernadette’’ highlighted in white. 


You and me in our playhouse
Living in a veil
We never need to go without
Memories bring no joy or peace
We are alone
And all we need
Tuning out of the poison
Every waking day
Intolerance to overcome
Fortunes won by the boys with the guns
We are alone
Nowhere to run

You are my liberty
I celebrate the day
That you changed my history
Life and death
Will always lead you into love and regret
But you have answers
And I have the key
For the door to Bernadette

Winding down our emotions
Family and friends
Becoming ghosts to dream of and pass on
Time will erase every face every name
We are alone
No-one to blame

You are my liberty
I celebrate the day
That you changed my history
Life and death
Will always lead you into love and regret
But you have answers
And I have the key
For the door to Bernadette

end video transcipt. ]

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