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bijouxcarys · 3 months

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𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should never have been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tags: @firethatgrewsolow @whothefuckisanja @celestial-dragoness @chromations @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @m-faithfull @strsmn @callmethehunter @angrychicksposts (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!)

The amber liquid sloshed gently as another glass was filled, marking a gradual countdown to a much-anticipated break.

In the heart of Walsall, John Bonham's pub buzzed with life on that particular day. The recent return of kids to school after half-term holidays granted parents a brief respite, allowing them to savour the comforting ambiance of their cherished local haunt.

Walsall might not have dazzled the urban enthusiasts accustomed to the bustling streets of London, Liverpool, or Manchester. However, for the residents, it was a haven. The community thrived in tight-knit bonds, where familiarity bred friendship. In Walsall, faces weren't just faces; they were familiar chapters of a collective story.

For Elena, the pub job John had offered was a lifeline, an escape from the logistical challenges of her previous employment that entailed rides back and forth. The relentless hour-long bus ride on days when John couldn't drive her had become a wearisome routine. Yet, she never had to ask; John's commitment to her safety was unwavering. Opting for the haven of John's pub proved to be a decision that reshaped Elena's narrative, making it the finest choice she'd ever made.

Elena gingerly massaged her lower back, easing the strain from bending over the rack of pint glasses. A flush of warmth crept across her face, and the rebellious baby hairs escaping her ponytail adhered to her forehead. Glancing at the clock above the bar had become a ritual, each tick dragging its heels toward the elusive 2pm.

The half-apron snugly tied around her waist doubled as a saviour, mopping the moisture above her eyebrows and guarding against any accidental beverage spills. A fleeting grimace transformed into a welcoming smile as the next patron patiently awaited service.

John's pub drew a crowd of amiable souls, and Elena effortlessly charmed them, especially the older clientele. Navigating conversations with the seasoned regulars was her forte. Despite the occasional pang of longing for a break, she generally relished her role. The only thorn in her side was the relentless passage of time, leaving her body ablaze with exhaustion. Today was no different; an unrelenting marathon had her yearning for a damn cigarette break.

Adjusting the grip on her ponytail, Elena’s attention was snatched by the entrance of two familiar faces, their boyish grins lighting up the pub like a burst of energy.

John and Robert, when together, had developed an aura of mischief since they met. They were both confident in each other’s presence, and both knew they were destined for greatness. Although Crawling King Snakes had disbanded early that year, the pair were still in touch and had become virtually inseparable, which in turn meant Elena saw Robert a lot more than what she would have otherwise.

It hadn’t even been a year since she met him and it felt like she’d known him an entire lifetime. She’d already picked up on his little quirks and mannerisms; the way his smile was slightly crooked, his accent thickened when talking about something he loved, and his eyes would narrow when in deep thought. Elena would poke fun at Robert when the Black Country accent warped his words into almost unintelligible murmurs, but he was always quick to bounce back with a light comment about her own accent.

Recently, Robert had started to let his hair grow out along the sides, turning his blonde locks into a short mass of messy curls that now dropped down into a fully defined beard. It was an intricate development, experiment, he was trying out, searching for a style he felt fit him perfectly.

“El!” John’s voice echoed cheerfully, arms flung wide in a theatrical greeting as they approached the bar. Elena’s face lit up in response, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Y’alright, Bon Bon?” she inquired with a sly grin, her gaze subtly drifting to the blonde figure beside John. “Hi,” she added, her voice a soft undertone.

“Workin’ hard, I see,” John teased, playfully tapping his fist on the freshly polished surface.

“Obviously. Isn’t that why you handed me this job?”

“Could’ve been just because you’re my best friend.”

“Oh, not because I’m a hard worker or anything, eh?” Elena retorted, shooting a smirk at Robert, who observed the banter with an amused expression. “I’m so glad you hold me in such high esteem, John.” With a snort of laughter, she tossed the cloth she had been using to wipe the bar into the wash bin, adding a touch of flair to the mundane task.

“Nah, just joshin’ with you, El. Look at your face! You’re clearly putting in the effort,” John nodded his head in reference to her flushed cheeks and tired demeanour.

“Oh, thanks,” Elena deadpanned, giving him an exaggerated eye roll. “Have you had a good look at your own face lately?”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” John tilted his head back, theatrically flipping his hair.

“You are so fucking insufferable. You’re lucky I love you,” Elena dismissed John with a playful grimace, a sentiment he returned with a mock offended expression. She then turned her attention to Robert. “And how are we today, Robert?”

“Ah, not too shabby, not too shabby,” he shrugged casually, leaning against the bar with a nonchalant air. “You?”

“Oh, I’m having the absolute time of my life here,” she answered Robert but darted her eyes over at John, who was occupying himself by creating a steady rhythm with his hands. He was entirely in his own world, head moving along with the beat he’d created. Looking back at Robert, she smirked. “Has he been smoking again?”

Robert stifled a laugh, standing up straight and nudging John. “Oi, Bonzo!” No answer. “My Lord…” he muttered, resuming his previous position. “Not been smoking, just bangin’ on about Ginger Baker for the last half hour.”

“Ginger Baker… why’s that name sound familiar?”

“Cream.”

“Ah, yes!” she clicked her fingers with a nod, “That’s right… Great, aren’t they?”

“Superb, yeah,” Robert nodded. “You listened to their new album yet?”

“Uh, of course I have, I never miss a new record from my favourite artists,” she told him pointedly.

“You don’t have any of mine!” John interrupted.

“Oh, so you’re competent now, are you?” Elena jested. “You don’t have any records, you plonker.”

As she and John continued their usual back and forth—nothing but love—Robert kept his eyes fixed on Elena. He’d known it within the first 15 minutes of meeting her. He just knew. Deep in his soul. As sure as he was that the sun would rise in the morning. He liked her.

She was so entirely endearing to him, and that only intensified throughout the months he’d had to get to know her. It turned him into a giddy little boy, the way she made him feel whenever she was around. Her smile was totally intoxicating, even more so when paired with that accent—that stabbing bluntness that gave her an air of invincibility.

When John had made a passing comment about visiting Elena at work, Robert was almost embarrassed at how quick he was to encourage the idea, his stomach flipping at the mere mention of her name. If it were up to him, he’d have sprinted his peppy self all the way down that road and bulldozed into the pub. He would have dove over the bar, taken her into his arms and attacked her with kiss after kiss…

But he simply could not bring himself to make that move. Never had he ever felt this intimidated about approaching a girl he found attractive. Perhaps it was the lingering knowledge that her rejection would strain his relationship with John, or the straight fact that he couldn't muster up the correct string of words to accurately convey the urge he had to be around her.

So, he did the safest thing and cherished the friendship they’d formed, making the most out of every moment he got with her.

“Listen, I got ya a lovely little job in my lovely little pub,” John gestured around him. “What’s so wrong with the decor?”

Robert was quickly brought back from his thoughts as Elena let out a jubilant laugh. My favourite sound…

“Uh, there aren’t enough plants. Try putting some plants in here, Bon. Plants make everything more lively and colourful!” She gave him a playful pout, batting her lashes in a plea for botanical relief.

Robert stood straight again, nodding his head at John. “Go’won mate, it won’t hurt.”

“Shut up, you, you’re supposed to be my friend.”

“And I am, but give the girl a plant.”

“We don’t need plants in here, El,” John tried to reason with the brunette, who had already settled with the fact she would not be getting her way this time. It was his pub, after all…

“Besides,” John continued, “The only ‘plant’ anyone ever needs is right here.” He shot a glance at Robert, whose eyes widened in a subtle appeal for silence.

Elena raised her eyebrow, arms folded, and looked over at the boy in question. It was a relief to see Elena smiling at the comment, taking it lightly, and Robert was quick to breathe out his ease. He was lucky John hadn’t caught the fleeting exchange of smiles between the two, and mentally praised his decision to keep the beard in its concealment of a pink flush.

“Fine,” she sighed, facing the drummer. “But you owe me, Bonham.”

“Anything but a plant, please,” he groaned. “What time’s your break?”

Another useless glance at the clock proved a whole 10 minutes had passed, yet it was still a gruelling 20 from her golden 2pm. With a small whimper, she told him.

“Well, why don’t you go on break now, I’ll man the bar.” He gestured for her to come out of her enclosure with a sympathetic nod of his head.

“Really?” she breathed, already moving to untie the apron from her waist. “Ugh, you’re a lifesaver, cheers, Bon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, catching the apron as Elena threw it to him. “And take ‘im with ya,” he pointed at Robert. “If I have to hear about fuckin’ Derrick Morgan and that reggae shit for another second, I’ll wring his neck in.”

“Ses you with fuckin’ Ginger Baker, ya twat,” Robert shot back with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, leave him alone, Bon Bon, just because he can grow out his beard,” teased Elena as she passed him by.

“Yeah, but look at this ‘tache.” He ran his fingers over the thick hair above his top lip, encouraging a laugh from Elena.

“See you in a bit,” she shook her head, the smile still lingering, as she and Robert made their way out the back of the pub.

“You put up with that your whole life?” Robert asked with a smirk as she stopped in the cloakroom to dig out her cigarettes from her jacket pocket.

With a nod, she giggled and gestured to the correct door. Pushing it open, he gave a theatrical bow in Elena’s direction. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, thank you,” she responded with an equally flamboyant nod, stepping outside into the cool May breeze. Whilst the pub’s atmosphere was laid back and welcoming, there were some ventilation issues that made it stuffier than most would prefer; especially if they were working. Elena had to take a minute to breathe in the fresh air around her before lighting up her cigarette.

The space behind the pub was a small, abandoned patch of land that doubled as the car park. It meant Elena could be alone during her breaks and smoke as much as she wanted without the possibility of judgemental eyes. Not that she particularly cared what others thought about her; she would just prefer not to find herself in an altercation.

“I’m telling ya, don’t ever work in a pub,” she advised Robert, groaning as she slid down the wall into a seated position on the floor. With a chuckle, he joined her, weary of how close he was. Just a few more inches to the right and his leg would be touching hers. Don’t do it, Rob… So he settled for bending his knees and resting his arms on top of them.

“‘S not that bad, is it?” he peered at her through squinted eyes, the afternoon sun lashing down on them. Elena shrugged, crossing her ankles together and rolling them to relieve her of the burgeoning ache.

“Nah, it’s alright. John just needs to put some proper ventilation in there.” She flicked some ash onto the gravelly floor. “There’re plenty of things I’d rather be doing, but it’s okay for an 18-year-old that doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing yet.”

Robert gave her an understanding nod and smiled to himself. “What would you rather be doing?”

“I’m not too sure yet,” she thought, resting her head against the wall. “I’ve only just finished sixth form. Everyone’s buggering off to uni—it was a struggle just surviving the last 2 years, I ain't gunna spend thousands on a bloody degree.”

“I mean, you must be smart if you made it through sixth form, at least,” Robert speculated, unable to unglue his eyes from Elena as she took a long drag from her cigarette.

“It was mostly to appease my dad,” she snorted, blowing out excess smoke into the air. “Oh, do you want one, by the way?” She turned to him, offering out her packet of Marlboros.

Looking down at the pack, he couldn’t resist. “Well, if yer offerin’,” he accepted somewhat giddily with a shrug of his shoulders. Elena giggled, passing him one before striking a match, leaning in to light it up for him. “I coulda lit it meself,” he mumbled out the side of his mouth, but gladly leaned into the flame.

Perhaps he was imagining things, but he swore he caught the scent of her perfume—or is it her hair—as she cupped her hand over his cigarette and the match, her own cig dangling from her lips. Whilst she was distracted with the small task, he took a moment to let his eyes wander over her face, still slightly red from her labour. Thick, dark brows knitted in concentration, long eyelashes untouched by makeup, the natural glow of her skin… He’d never had the chance to take a good look at her up close like this, but he wasn’t expecting to fall even deeper into whatever spell she had unknowingly cast upon him.

What he didn’t catch, however, whilst admiring the slope of her nose, was how she took her own experimental glance at him. It was brief, but long enough to truly admire the vibrancy of his eyes; she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen any as blue before.

And it was definitely long enough to notice his wandering gaze.

She felt strange being in such close proximity to Robert, but it was in no way unpleasant. His energy was warm, that much she gathered from the day they met; it was the reason she enjoyed being friends with him so much. Robert had the warmest soul she’d ever crossed paths with, even though she’d known him for the short span of 10 months.

Pulling back, she shook the match, the smoky residue thick in its ascendance, before she dropped it beside her, swiftly joined by the ash that had collected at the end of her cigarette.

With a small smirk on her face, she watched Robert as he took a drag. Yes, he was definitely looking at her…

Then, his bushy eyebrows narrowed, as if in confusion, and he snapped his head towards her. “Hang on, 18?”

“18 what?” She mirrored his expression.

“Since when were you 18?”

“Uh, since last week.”

Robert’s mouth dropped open, an almost offended expression taking over his features.

“What?” she laughed. “What’s that face for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

Tilting her head to the side, she pulled her mouth into an amused line. “Didn’t think it was that important.”

“Your 18th isn’t important?” he gasped.

“Well, yeah, it’s an important age, but I didn’t know I needed to tell you about it,” she chuckled.

“I coulda gotten you summet, luv…”

“Don’t be silly, Robert, you never needed to get me owt.”

“Owt?”

“Anything—you wouldn’t have needed to get me anything!” she huffed.

He held back a laugh by bringing his cig to his lips. “Okay, if you insist…” he murmured.

Even though he was taking a jab, yet a-fucking-gain, at her accent, and being allusive about her birthday, she couldn’t suppress the smile it put on her lips. She lowered her eyes to her legs for a moment, picking at the skin around her thumb, before looking back over at Robert.

“My birthday’s the 13th. For future reference…” Her voice had dropped to a softer tone, and she gave him a smile of the same candour.

“Noted,” Robert nodded. “Don’t be complainin’ if I ever get you owt, though. For future reference,” he smirked.

“You’re as bad as him in there,” she nodded her head towards the door, wondering how John was coping behind the bar and finding some unbridled amusement in the image.

There was a small silence between the two, during which she had finished her cigarette and was now simply reclining against the jagged bricks that made up the pub.

“How’s everything going with finding a new band?” she asked him after a moment, staring up at the clouds now that they had mercifully shielded the sun.

Robert’s sigh was heavy, and through stubborn lips. He shook his head, grumbling something incoherent before finally answering. “‘S alright…” He ran his tongue over his teeth, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Uh, Elena?”

“Hm?”

“D’ya think… I dunno, if I were to ask…” he paused, clicking his tongue. “Ya think Bonzo would be up for playin’ with me again?” He looked at her with genuine curiosity.

It didn’t take much thought for her to reply with a confident nod. “Oh, absolutely! I mean, he’s having a lot of fun with A Way Of Life, but he really did enjoy working with you.”

He sighed in relief, smiling to himself at the response, it being exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Who wouldn’t?”

Robert instantly looked back up at Elena with slightly widened eyes, wondering if he’d just heard her correctly.

“A-as in you’re a good singer,” Elena was quick to clarify, “You’ve got a… just this… the right…” she stuttered, before sighing and looking right into his eyes. “Energy…”

Robert’s eyes softened and grinned characteristically, with a hint of bashfulness. “Tha–”

“Oi! Have you two finished your mother’s meeting out ‘ere?!”

The pair on the floor whipped their heads towards the door to see John’s face sticking out the small gap in it.

“Fucking hell, man, don’t do that!” Elena exclaimed, her hand shooting to her chest. “Wanker…” she mumbled as she pulled herself up from the floor and dusted off her trousers, Robert following suit.

Giving him a jesting shove on the way inside, Elena begrudgingly set herself up for resuming her shift. Meanwhile, Robert slowly made his way back inside, stopping to face his friend.

“Your timing is nothin’ short of fuckin’ exquisite, Bonzo.”

Playfully flicking his forehead, Robert sauntered his way back inside. And as he did, John watched with the complete knowledge of Robert’s seemingly ever-growing interest in his best friend.

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alynnl · 5 months

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It's taken me longer than I've planned to write the extended, unabridged version of my notes for my TGAA fan case, "Adventure of The Great Vanishing Act."

That being said, I'd like to share one of my favorite parts of it because it was so fun thinking all this up. Just this scene alone is quite long but I didn't want to leave any of it out! I hope you all enjoy!

To set the scene: Sholmes and Iris are investigating together to find Professor Harebrayne after he goes missing. With some deductions, they manage to get on the right track.

**** They begin in the last place Albert was seen - in his home, a first floor room of a three story building. At a glance, Sholmes can tell that there were no signs of forced entry. The door is still locked, windows are intact, as is the rest of the furniture and scientific equipment inside of the room.

Iris points out the most notable difference - that there is no coat or scarf on the coat hanger. It’s a clear sign that Albert must have gone out, and never made it back home.

Sholmes takes note of the businesses nearby. There are two places that Albert may have stopped by: a pawnbroker and a pub. Sholmes reasons that these are places that anyone down on their luck would visit (not that he would know from personal experience!)

After Sholmes and Iris ask a few questions to the pawnbroker and tavern owner, they make their way to one of the back streets between the pub and Harebrayne’s home. They each go forward with extreme caution into a dark alley. The street appears quiet with very few people walking the sidewalks, and many buildings look to be in varying states of disrepair.

Iris teases Sholmes to lighten the mood, asking if he’s still afraid of the dark.

“A little fear is healthy in a place like this, my dear Iris. But if we face our adversary, I shall be braver than ever!”

Underneath the streets that Sholmes and Iris are walking, Albert Harebrayne is alone in a dark cellar. It has very small windows near the ceiling, much too tiny to crawl through, and too high to reach. The only entrance and exit is a heavily locked door on the top of some very steep stairs.

After waking up and coming to his senses, Albert has spent his time trying to figure out how to escape. Unfortunately, he came to the conclusion that he can’t get out on his own.

(“But I can’t give up! I owe it to Barok and Mr. Naruhodo after everything they’ve done for me! I’ve got to find a way out of this, for their sake… and mine!”)

Albert frantically scribbles on the walls with chalk, a mix between words and equations. It all adds up to a simple fact: if he can’t leave on his own, he’ll need someone outside to free him. But he’s had virtually no contact with the outside world, so no one is even aware that he’s confined, much less where he is.

That’s when it dawns on him. He needs to light a signal to let someone, anyone know where he is, and hope they’ll come to his rescue. And to Professor Harebrayne, there’s no better signal than an explosion.

Albert notices a rack of wine bottles behind him. He takes a few odds and ends from his lab coat and mixes them in with the wine bottle. He knows he will have to throw it in just the right spot.

“Right. Here goes nothing!”

Albert tosses the bottle and it lands right where it needs to - into one of the tiny ceiling windows.

Just above, on the street level, a small fireball erupts. A few pedestrians see it, including Iris and Sholmes. Chaos ensues from the small fire, but Sholmes keeps a cool head. He and Iris enter the front entrance of a rundown building. They’re aware they only have a few minutes to act, and search frantically for any hidden rooms or passages.

Iris points out skid marks on the wooden floor, and Sholmes follows where they go. They enter a room with a tall wardrobe, and a noticeable draft. With great effort, both Sholmes and Iris push the wardrobe aside to reveal a door. It’s locked by three different locks, prompting Sholmes to use his lock picks.

Once the locks fall away, Sholmes and Iris head down a steep staircase.

Halfway down the steps, they meet Albert, who was hastily going up once he saw the heavy door finally open.

“Mr. Sholmes! And Miss Iris too! What are you two doing here?”

Sholmes gets to the point. “To make a long story extremely short, we’ve come here to save you.”

Iris chimes in. “That’s right! With our powers of deduction, we were able to find you, Professor Bunnybrain! I hope you’re doing okay.”

“I’m… fine. Actually, I’m better than fine! Thanks to your strokes of genius, I’m finally free! I can’t wait to be home again…”

Sholmes puts on a more serious expression. “Ah. It’s good to know you’re not injured, Professor, but I’m afraid you won’t be going home just yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sholmes takes Albert by the hand and begins to lead him up the stairs with Iris trailing closely behind.

“We must hurry to The Old Bailey. I will hail the first cab I see.”

“The Old Bailey? You mean the courthouse? But that’s the last place I want to be!”

Iris shrugs. “I get why you’d feel that way after your trial last week, but I would still listen to Hurley if I were you.”

“Quite so. We are under rather trying circumstances at the moment. If you don’t show that handsome face of yours in the courtroom, a certain friend of yours may completely give in to despair.”

"A certain friend of mine...are you talking about Barok? Is he in some sort of trouble then?"

Sholmes stops after they walk briskly down the streets of London, a little ways from the pawnbroker’s.

"Oh dear. You really have no idea what's happening, do you?"

“Of course I don’t know!” Albert exclaims frantically. “If my calculations are accurate, I’ve spent about thirty six hours in that cellar with no word from the outside world whatsoever!”

Sholmes flags down a passing horse drawn cab, and it stops.

“I will have to explain everything on the way there, Professor. Your friend Van Zieks is in the middle of a trial, and we must arrive before it ends.”

Iris does her best to sound encouraging. “Hurley and I will be right there with you, so there’s no reason to be scared. You can count on us!”

Albert seems a little nervous as he speaks his thoughts. “I can’t even begin to form a hypothesis about what’s really going on. But it’s clear that Barok needs my help somehow! I’ll go with you, Mr. Sholmes. It’s the least I could do.”

Sholmes sees to it that all of them are seated in the hansom.

“Let us make haste then! We haven’t got a moment to lose!”

Sholmes presses a pile of coins into the cab driver’s hands. He mentions that there will be a bonus if they reach The Old Bailey before the trial concludes. The small open carriage practically flies down the streets of London towards its destination…

#Lynn's writing #fanfic notes #Adventure of the Great Vanishing Act #The Great Ace Attorney #Herlock Sholmes #Iris Wilson #Albert Harebrayne #bringing these three together was so exciting #I'm compelled to share my notes #because I'm not sure if I can write a full fic at the moment #I hope you all enjoy the ride regardless!

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master-hekates-ceremonials · 9 months

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AC15 Discovery Tours - 1-Year Anniversary

On this day last year, I along with a few AC podcasters and fans - including ACLandmarks, @estel-of-the-eyrie, The Science of Assassin's Creed, and @letstalkassassinscreed - co-hosted a series of series which we call the Discovery Tours! While the RPG trilogy of Origins, Odyssey, and Valhalla have a game mode called the Discovery Tour, the classic games didn't have anything similar - we sought to provide that similar experience.

Arsh had started with the RPG trilogy prior, and the team (including me) came in during for Syndicate's celebration. What started out as a virtual pub crawl grew into something grander. I'm proud to have been part of this amazing team of AC fans and history buffs. Shoutout to the team - Arsh, Louise, Adha, BurnedCrusader. And shoutout to our collaborators and guests - @jamestq, Steph, Ammit, to name a few. And it was a pleasure getting back together for new tours for Community Relief! And finally, shoutout to the ACSisterhood for that is where we first gathered for the Virtual Pub Crawl which became the Discovery Tour series.

#ac15 #discovery tour #assassin's creed #assassins creed #streams #my streams #playlist #youtube

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rabbitcruiser · 1 year

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The battleship USS Maine exploded and sank in Havana harbor in Cuba, killing 274, on February 15, 1898. This event leads the United States to declare war on Spain.

Remember the Maine Day

Today we remember the Maine, the American battleship that blew up on today's date in 1898 while anchored in Havana Harbor. Commanded by Captain Charles G. Sigsbee, it was one of the first American battleships, cost more than $2 million to build, and weighed more than 6,000 tons. Ostensibly, its mission in the harbor was friendly, but its real purpose was to protect American lives and property. Cuba was in the midst of rebelling from Spain, and as Cuba sought its independence, it was believed that a full-blown war could break out at any time. The United States had also long had its eye on Cuba, hoping to expand its influence there and in the region.

About 350 crew members were aboard the ship on that fateful Tuesday evening. Shortly after 9 p.m., the ship's bugler, C.H. Newton, blew taps. Around 9:40 p.m., an explosion rocked the boat. A second, massive explosion followed, and broke apart the bow, throwing debris over 200 feet into the air. The ship quickly sank, and approximately 266 of the ship's crew perished.

The American press immediately started pointing to an external explosion—either by a mine or torpedo—at the hands of Spain as the cause of the ship's demise. In March, the U.S. Naval Court of Inquiry determined that a mine had caused the explosion, but they didn't directly blame Spain for it. Although there wasn't enough evidence to prove that Spain blew up the ship, the American public and members of Congress ignored this, and put blame on them, and then called for war. "Remember the Maine" became the war cry.

On April 25, 1898, the United States formally declared war against Spain. By August, the United States was victorious and an armistice was signed. The war officially ended with the signing of the Treaty of Paris on December 10, 1898. Spain relinquished the Philippines, Puerto Rico, and Guam to the United States. Cuba soon gained independence, but the United States maintained a powerful influence there.

Ultimately, the cause of the explosion of the Maine is still inconclusive. Some still believe Spain was to blame. In 1976, Adm. Hyman Rickover of the U.S. Navy began an investigation into the cause. The results showed that the explosion came from within the ship, likely from a coal bunker fire. Most people agree with this assessment.

Various locations hold events for the day. A service is held at the Battleship Maine Monument in Davenport Park in Bangor, Maine, where the shield and scrolls recovered from the shop are located. Beginning in 2011, a group started holding an "all-day patriotic pub crawl through historic Boston" where participants attempt "to drink at least 266 beverages as a festive commemoration of the 266 brave men who died on the USS Maine on February 15, 1898, in Havana Harbor as a result of Spanish treachery." Patriotic costumes are worn, and those who don't know the story of the Maine are educated and encouraged to join in on the festivities. New York has also participated in some years, and organizers have also allowed virtual participation, so those who don't live in those cities can still take part in a drink-filled remembering of the Maine.

How to Observe Remember the Maine Day

Here are a few ideas on how to remember the Maine:

Attend the ceremony held at the Battleship Maine Monument in Bangor, Maine. Veterans organize the event, but anyone can attend.

Visit the USS Maine National Monument in New York City or the USS Maine Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery.

Visit the Monument to Victims of the Maine in Havana, Cuba.

Attend the Remember the Maine Day patriotic pub crawl in Boston. The pub crawl has also taken place in New York City. According to the event's Facebook page, 2020 is the last year it is being held. In the past, those who can't make it to Boston have been encouraged to celebrate virtually. If you can't get to Boston, or if the event is no longer being held, you could also hold your own Remember the Maine patriotic pub crawl in your community. Dress up in patriotic garb and hit the town!

View photos of and related to the Maine.

Watch a documentary about the Spanish-American War, such as Crucible of Empire: The Spanish-American War or The Spanish American War: First Intervention.

Read a book about the Maine.

Source

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twincitiesgeek · 5 days

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This Week in Geek (4/22/2024–4/28/2024)

This week, dive into some Cold War history with the Smithsonian, hit the town for the annual St. Paul Art Crawl, find your next favorite game at the Tabletop Market Spring Event, and plenty more!

Welcome to This Week in Geek, your guide to events of interest to the Minnesota geek community for the week of Monday, April 22, to Sunday, April 28. (Jump to In-Person Events) Virtual Events Virtual Pub Quiz Trivia Night What: Trivia When: Monday, April 22, at 8:00 p.m. Where: Virtual via Twitch Get your trivia on from the comfort of home with Geeks Who Drink’s online trivia night. Prove your…

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#This Week in Geek

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shorekromann19 · 1 year

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usb sound card for virtual dj

Freeware Music Mixing Software won't turn you into another Carl Cox, will certainly help you develop some great DJing skills seeking are just making your starting over. It's obvious that Freeware Music Mixing Software doesn't have all the bells and whistles that Pro versions have, but keep in mind that you shouldn't get paying any money for it. To provide a plenty of different products on the Internet, feel free to try them all. Next we walked downstairs to Nashville where the DJ was playing some country and rock and roll mp3. We were about half way through our complimentary drinks the MC called us to the dance floor where we gathered for the group the picture. When the picture was snapped not once but twice, he told us that we can easily pick up our free copy the next morning at Cabanas where we get going. Then it was game time! Canada battled Australia to see who could suck down drinks mirror. By the end belonging to the competition everyone was riled up. In the victorian era clear we got eased in the spirit of the pub crawl and the party became getting was created. FL Studio is awesome and Reason in new clothing. Deadmau5 uses it with created some top records. It has great support and all the functions and effects that you'll ever need. It is awesome for techno making and electronic your favourite songs. That's also why music is favored format for radio. Jewel rock, pop, folk, classical or country. Or mixed. Most of your modern radio is tunes. Yes, there is talk radio. Yes, there is sports transmission. Yes, there is news flash. But the vast most of the airwaves -- literal, satellite or virtual -- is used up with melodies. virtual dj disc jockey is a popular MP3 mixing software available for sale. It is ideal for all DJs, from beginners to professionals and helps create great mixes from a short duration of time. This recent technological breakthrough was established to help mix beats and any new rhythm by mixing any particular song with a variety of beats. The beat lock feature means it is intelligent app. It can automatically alter a pitch to accomodate the BPM (beats per minute). Plan can shorten or slow up the discs as a way to match a rhythm and can continue to do this with particular fields such as music. You have your laptop and DJ Software, now you need a mixer. You could have to plug your laptop into a mixer of some nature. You will output the speakers by way of mixer. Mixers are fairly inexpensive and are able to be purchased at your local music manage. A 4 channel mixer would be fine. Some DJ Software programs offer an USB external sound business card. These sound boxes employ separation among the Left and Right Stops. If you do invest in a USB external sound box you would run a 1/4" cable out by way of the LEFT channel to channel 1 close to the mixer. Would certainly run a 1/4" cable out out from the RIGHT channel on the box to Channel 2 on the mixer. Art is everywhere making it evident in club play. Even the remix of dance music is still considered methods. There are people who regard this as noise but it is an art in a different way. An art is a creative outlet that shows a creative artist, an art object in addition to an observer or even audience. In this particular case, in dance music, the creative artist is the DJ and also the art object is the song that is remixed. The observer or even if the audience will be club guests. Therefore it is safe to conclude that club DJs and virtual DJs who can come the music in the clubs create art. And indeed virtual dj Torrent may be the case for Mikey in slimming. Despite starting a long term relationship together with his now fiance, fellow Much larger contestant Grace Adams-Short, shortly afterwards he was evicted on the house, the media regularly continued to link him to other girls, another thing that obviously irritates him.

#VIRTUAL DJ

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the-real-sigrid-borg · 3 years

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We're in lockdown, I've had like 4 standard drinks and I'm ready to fucking party*

*and by party I mean sitting in bed and finishing my book

#mine #alcohol mention #dw im drinking responsibility #mostly #at least im not doing a pub crawl in the middle of a pandemic #also i was at a virtual birthday party do its not like im drinking on a monday night for no reason

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virtualrenfaire2020 · 4 years

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Pub Crawl Prep!

The Faire is getting nearer, so it’s time to start planning for the pub crawl! Join us this Saturday, March 28, or next Saturday, April 4, at 1:30 PM PDT.

There will be five stops on our pub crawl. Ideally, you’ll want to have five unique beverages - we suggest cider, but anything goes! If your local breweries are offering safe ways to pick up their drinks, this is a great way to show some support!

If you are under the drinking age in your area, or prefer to go alcohol-free, bring some fresh apple cider or other non-alcoholic beverages instead!

Rather than stampeding through the streets, we’ll be having challenges at each drink stop to keep things exciting. To participate in all of the challenges, here’s a list of the materials you’ll need:

blankets, pillows, and furniture

a few sheets of paper

scissors (optional)

pencil, pen, and/or other drawing materials

a deck of cards (any type of cards are fine)

We’ll be sharing pictures at every stop and we’d love if you did too! See you at the first pub!

#virtual ren faire 2020 #faire activities #vrf2020 pub crawl

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Dare: Fool’s Gold

R: “You poke it, It’s your turn.

V: I’m not going to poke it, you poke it.

R: I poked the last one, it’s your turn.

V: Well last time I poked an auspicious corpse I got turned to a statue for a week while you fuckers went on a pub crawl “looking for a healer”

R: That doesn’t exempt you from the rotation

V: I was aware the ENTIRE TIME. I COULDN’T BLINK, I am exempt on the basis of emotional trauma.

S:Hey while you two cowards were arguing I found a stick! Back Up, I’m going to poke this old shiny geezer SO MUCH

Rothan, Vosoreis, and Sindyr, Members of the Exploded Goat Adventuring Company.

Setup: While venturing through the swamp the party has discovered what appears to be a rotten corpse in untarnished golden armor. Drawn in by a trail of scattered scales in nearby streams and birdnests, they are now faced with the dilemma of whether to mess with this obviously cursed cadaver or leave it and the fabulous wealth it protects behind.

When someone inevitably DOES disturb the dead, the body will lurch up, sockets burning with green fire and in an echoing voice pronounce: K̶̺̪̲̤͛̌̌N̵̝̐̈́́̃̽Ǫ̴͚̗̩̺͂W̸̰̲̱̭̆͜ ̸̪̅̆̾̑̏̂͝T̷̍̏̈͋̀ͅH̷͖̯͖̩̣̉̊̽͜Ę̸͚͎̹̩̯̏͂͛ ̴̝̭͕̜̯͈͐͑̈́̐̂̽̂ͅB̸̺̣̝͔̝̠̔̿̇̈́͋U̸͍̻͓̼͓̍R̶̨̤̭̺̗̣̙̽̿̇̃D̶̞̬̠̼̉̽̑̇̃̓͠ͅE̶̤̲̬̣̜̱̹̾̾N̷̫̜͖̺̲͕̒̐S ̵̨̛͕͆̽͗̒͠͝Ỏ̷̡̭̬̙̯̋̔́F̶̱̾ ̶̢͍̘͚̼͍̓̌G̸̣̼̱̝̞͐́̃̆̊͝Ĺ̷͙̽̿̐O̸̙̞̽̆Ŗ̸̙͔̙̪͐Y̷̩͉̩̑̎̈̾̚͘͜ , clutching them in a vicegrip while the golden armor falls away from their rotting body and seals around their victim.

Now trapped in an a very heavy, very valuable suit of plate armor, the adventurer must now attempt to complete their current adventure while under a staggering burden, as the armor re-dons itself every time the wearer or their companions attempt to undo its claps and bindings. For its part, the corpse dissolves into swamp muck, cackling all the while.

Challenges & Complications:

The Armor is unusually heavy for its size, reducing the bearer’s speed by 10 in addition to imposing disadvantage on stealth, athletics, and acrobatics rolls. The bearer is granted proficiency with the armor ( it counts as medium) and with greatswords, but all spells cast by the bearer have a 10% chance of failing. The armor also force attunes itself, and cannot be unattuned until the corpse’s curse is lifted (more on that later)

Despite dissolving into pondscum, the spirit of the armor’s original owner still lingers, an echo of a conceited exile desperate to prove his supremacy over the wilderness. Visions of slaying great beasts, founding cities, looting great treasure will cloud the cursed character’s mind. Green fire will burn in their eyes during combat, and should they end up sleeping in the armor (a process which will grant virtually no actual rest), the party will discover their companion sleepwalking puppeted out by the spirit in an attempt to find yet more glories in the swamp that’s already claimed their life at least once.

Accomplishing some great task while wearing the armor is not enough to break the curse and remove the armor, as great deeds are worth nothing if not acknowledged by the powerful, necessitating the party being rewarded for their actions by someone of noble blood, though commissioning some kind of ballad or memorial may be enough. Alternatively the party could find someone to cast dispel evil and good and remove curse in quick succession. Once freed, the armor will fall to pieces, leaving behind a small fortune in gold plating and an actually worthwhile set of mithril halfplate.

#dare #Curse #swamp #undead #Cursed item #low level #D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD #treasure

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xanadontit · 2 years

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I think I mentioned awhile back that one of the investors in my company went to space with Blue Origin. *fart noise*

We’re hosting a “virtual pub crawl” later today and said investor is joining for a bit to tell us all about his big boy adventure. He can’t stay the entire time because he has a dinner party for billionaires to attend that conflicts slightly. Just when I think I can’t be more nauseated I receive new information that challenges my gag reflex.

You all. The amount of work I’m going to need to do to maintain a neutral expression through this entire thing is... where’s my Oscar nom, is what I’m asking.

#lol and this clown asked for TWENTY MINUTES to talk #no you get 5 #you better work

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daily-best-jokes · 2 years

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A guy has spent five years traveling all around the world making a documentary on native dances.

At the end of this time, he has every single dance of every single indigenous culture in the world. He winds up in Australia, in Alice Springs, so he pops into a pub for a well-earned beer. He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project.

The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the Butcher Dance.

The guy's a bit confused and says, “Butcher Dance? What's that?”

“What? You haven't seen the Butcher Dance?”

“No, I've never heard of it.”

“Oh mate. You are crazy. How can you say you filmed every native dance if you haven't seen the Butcher Dance?”

“Umm. I got a corroboree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?”

"No no, not corroboree. Butcher Dance is much more important than corroboree.”

“Oh. Well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?”

“Mate, Butcher Dance is right out in th’ bush. It takes many days of travel to go see Butcher Dance.”

“Look, I've been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic, filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance!”

“OK, mate. You drive north along Stuart Highway towards Darwin. After you drive 250km, you'll see a dirt track off to the left. Follow the dirt track for 150km until you see a huge, dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever seen. Here you gotta leave the car, because it's much too rough for driving. You strike out due West into the setting sun. You walk three days til you hit a creek. You follow this creek to northwest. After two days you reach a place where the creek flows out of rocky mountains. It's much too difficult to cross the mountains here though. You now head south for a half day til you see a pass through the mountains. The pass is very difficult and very dangerous. Takes two, maybe three days to get through the rocky pass. When you're through, head northwest for four days until you reach a big huge rock - 15m high and shaped like a man's head. From whi rock, walk due west for two days and you reach a village. Here you'll see the Butcher Dance.”

So, the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he's forced to crawl along at a snail's pace and so he doesn't reach the tree until dusk, and he's forced to set up camp for the night.

He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he's excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he has never heard mentioned before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until he reaches the rocky mountains. The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills, confident that nothing will prevent him from completing his life's dream.

The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as his guide said, and at times he almost despairs of getting his bulky equipment through. But after three and a half days of back breaking effort he finally forces his way clear and continues his long trek. When he reaches the huge rock, four days later, his water is running low and his feet are covered with blisters. Yet he steels himself and heads out on the last leg of his journey. Two days later he virtually staggers into the village where the Aborigines feed him and give him fresh water. He begins to feel like a new man. Once he's recovered enough, the guy goes before the village Elder and tells him that he has come to film their Butcher Dance.

“Oh mate. It's very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You're too late. You missed the dance!”

“Well, when do you hold the next dance?”

“Not 'til next year!”

“Well, I've come all this way. Couldn't you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?”

"No, no, no. Butcher Dance is very sacred. Only held once a year. If we hold more, the spirits get very angry. You want to see Butcher Dance? You come back next year.”

The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilization and back home.

The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week with the Aboriginal people before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it. However, right from the start things go wrong.

Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few kilometres, finally forcing him to abandon his vehicle and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. He reaches the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain he is struck by a fierce storm which rages for several days, during which he is forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements. Then, before he has travelled a kilometre out from the mountains, he sprains his ankle badly which slows down the rest of his journey to the rock enormously. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long he has been travelling, he staggers into the community at about 12 noon.

“The Butcher Dance!” gasps the guy. “Please don't tell me I'm too late!”

The Elder recognises him and says, “No, whitefella, Butcher Dance performed tonight. You arrived just in time!”

Relieved beyond measure, he spends the rest of the afternoon setting up his equipment - preparing to capture the night's ritual on celluloid. As dusk falls, the Aborigines start to cover their bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in bird feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the dancers form a circle around a huge roaring fire.

A deathly hush descends over the performers and spectators alike, as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and begins to chant.

“Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man,” thinks the guy, and he whispers to the Elder, “What's he doing?”

“Hush,”whispers the Elder. “You're the first whitefella to ever see the most sacred of our rituals. You must remain silent. This holy man, he asks that the spirits of the Dreaming watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year.”

The chanting of the holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he moves himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of clapsticks reverberate out across the land and the dancers begin to sway to the stirring rhythm.

The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realises beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by humanity.

The Elder strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing.

“You butch yer right arm in. You butch yer right arm out. You butch yer right arm in and you shake it all about…”

submitted by /u/LegoCMFanatic [link] [comments]

#jokes #fun #humor #joke #funny jokes #funny #lol #texts #funny texts #haha

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master-hekates-ceremonials · 2 years

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AC15 Syndicate Pub Crawl on Sunday!

Continuing from the original teaser, to commemorate the Syndicate AC15 celebration this week, I will be hosting a Virtual Pub Crawl through Victorian London in Assassin's Creed Syndicate on Sunday, 07/17, at 1:00PM EST on my YouTube channel.

The Pub Crawl will run for about 2 hours and will include a virtual tour and general Assassin's Creed trivia quiz.

My friend, Adha of The Science of Assassin's Creed, will be hosting the trivia quiz. Arsh of ACLandmarks & @estel-of-the-eyrie of The Rookery's Archives will be co-hosting the virtual tour.

Hope to see you all there!

Special thanks to Adha, Arsh, Louise & @jamestq of Let's Talk Assassin's Creed!

#acsisterhood #ac15 #syndicate #pub crawl #assassin's creed #assassins creed #assassin's creed syndicate #assassins creed syndicate #event #youtube

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rabbitcruiser · 2 months

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The battleship USS Maine exploded and sank in Havana harbor in Cuba, killing 274, on February 15, 1898. This event leads the United States to declare war on Spain.

Remember the Maine Day

How to Observe Remember the Maine Day

Here are a few ideas on how to remember the Maine:

Attend the ceremony held at the Battleship Maine Monument in Bangor, Maine. Veterans organize the event, but anyone can attend.

Visit the USS Maine National Monument in New York City or the USS Maine Memorial in Arlington National Cemetery.

Visit the Monument to Victims of the Maine in Havana, Cuba.

View photos of and related to the Maine.

Watch a documentary about the Spanish-American War, such as Crucible of Empire: The Spanish-American War or The Spanish American War: First Intervention.

Read a book about the Maine.

Source

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