siege of the dead

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A Guide to Follow All True Crime Upcoming Projects on TV

(Updated on July 31, 2017)

Manhunt: Unabomber

Format: Scripted limited series.

Summary: This show focuses on the use of a new way of profiling that the FBI used to catch the Unabomber Ted Kaczynski, who is played by Paul Bettany. Sam Worthington plays FBI agent Jim Fitzgerald and Jane Lynch plays Attorney General Janet Reno. See the trailer here.

Premieres: August 1 2017, in Discovery Channel.

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panzerfluch  asked:

Tell us about the Palace of Justice siege.

Ah yes, La Toma del Palacio de Justicia, on the 6th of November 1985, the moment where Colombia finally realized it had become a failed state.

The Palace of Justice was basically the main hub of the Supreme Court, where all the cases from around the country got archived, and the big cases were tackled, and for this reason, Pablo Escobar, using the guerrilla group M-19, ordered its destruction, as he knew the government wanted to extradite him to the US, something he deeply feared throughout his terror drug campaign.

The M-19, a group far more powerful than the FARC cunts in its heyday, but that was much more benign (they didn’t use landmines, for example) and actually willing to help the people (mom admires them as they made her hometown, forgotten by the government, safe), was more than happy to help, as they wanted to humiliate the government of Colombia in the most grandiose way possible: By using the supreme court judges, which would be taken hostage, to judge the president of Colombia of the time, Belisario Betancur, for crimes against his people. 

The plan initially went wonderfully, as an assault team consisting of 35 guerrillas broke into the building, after taking advantage of a recent change in its security, in which specially-selected policemen were replaced by private security guards, and with help from inside in the form of the building’s cafeteria workers, whom stored and hid weapons and ammo for weeks before the attack, where they secured the palace’s only entry and underground garage. 

But the Colombian government, tired of the M-19 pulling this crap every time they felt like it (a few years before they had taken the entire Dominican Republic embassy, and successfully negotiated a ceasefire and escape to Cuba, leaving the government completely ridiculed), decided to reject all negotiations attempts, and just launched an all-out, hasty, completely disorganized counterattack, where every armed member of the government available, from the Presidential Guard, taken directly from the presidential palace itself just a few yards away, to normal policemen, used to dealing with petty thugs, which lead to a lot of initial chaos, casualties among the government forces, and a complete breakdown in communications between the entrenched M-19 members and the president. 

Among many crazy stories, a couple of patrolmen later recounted that they had been given a single Uzi SMG for both, and told to recon the entrance to the underground garage, where they were welcomed by a hail of machine gun fire coming from a well-entrenched guerrilla female commando manning an M60.

It got so desperate, policemen were literally thrown from helicopters onto the rooftop of the Palace, in a pointless attempt at breaking into the building from there.

Most of them didn’t survive, and notice how the first policeman broke his leg in the fall.

It was an entire clusterfuck, and then it got worse when the Army send in armor, the baptism of fire in Colombia of the recently acquired Engesa EE-9 Cascabel and EE-11 Urutu Brazilian-made armored vehicles, basically relieving the surviving police units, and turning the operation completely to the Army’s control.

The “tanks” broke in, supported by infantry, and floor by floor they took back the palace, killing every M-19 member that engaged them while rescuing hostages, but at the same time ensuring the survivors, among them the commander of the operation, wouldn’t surrender, where they hid in the 4th floor’s bathroom, with all 11 supreme court judges they had taken hostage, fighting until the last man. 

As night fell, the tanks retreated, and while the army reorganized, the Palace caught fire, something that to this day remains a mystery, but since sniper fire kept coming from the brazing inferno, firefighters were unable to approach it, so the army vehicles opened fire directly onto it, where shortly thereafter the siege ended with the dead of the remaining defenders and all 11 judges. 

The Palace was completely destroyed, all 35 guerrilla commandos were killed, alongside many policemen, soldiers, all 11 supreme court judges and a few more hostages, and the hellfire that consumed it all ensure Pablo’s extradition would never happen. 

And just a week later, the Nevado del Ruíz volcano erupted, completely destroying the mountain town of Armero, and killing 25,000 people in an instant, sending the country into a spiral of chaos, leading to the rise of Pablo Escobar’s terror campaign, an all-out war against the state, and specially the police, that left thousands dead and the country in shambles, its core completely broken. 

1985 marked the time in which Colombia sunk the lowest since the 1000 Day War and the subsequent loss of Panama, and only until the presidency of Alvaro Uribe Velez in 2002 it would begin to recover. 


Stannis Baratheon was only 18 when Lord Mace Tyrell descended on Storm’s End with the Reach’s host, and Lord Paxter Redwyne took the Redwyne fleet of the Arbor and closed Shipbreaker Bay to all trade. Stannis successfully held against the siege of Storm’s End for almost a year, with the garrison having to eat their horses, dogs and cats, and were nearly forced to eat their own dead, until the siege was lifted by Lord Eddard Stark.

Garrett Hedlund as young Stannis Baratheon.

I could almost taste it; the sillage of the departed. Lurid whites of faces pressing up against barren shop windows, on street corners in cities

that split open at the seams & construct trails of light on the bottoms of our teeth. Here the weather hardly shifts. The crows call out to their

dead mothers. The old moon, like a caterpillar, crawls scrawnily up the sky. My brain simmers, a fried egg sizzling in cloud-flesh. And the

angels are boiling. And I’m feeding off the lungs of men who left their children for the vivacious banks of the sea. And the boy tells

me to forget that he loves me. And somewhere behind the crumbling roof of the old bowling alley my father owned, sleep the ghouls who

were hoping to step out of their bodies for one night. And never reclaimed them. I guess next time I’ll make them kiss me dead.

Allow my bones to be spurned into rain! Let the night bewitch me! Let me disappear, let me grate like an antique shelf. So that when the

hydrangeas saunter, up into the sun’s ultraviolet heart, we can all
ignite with them. Reiterate our pleas to Icarus. Beg for a god that is not

fooled by sediments of cigarette ash, as we drown ourselves in an entombing siege of holy water. In burnt graves, in dead oceans.

—  Paraphrasing What The Phantom Decreed To Me In A Grocery Store Aisle || j.r

anonymous asked:

Okay so I wanted to start off by saying I love your blog and your headcanons are amazing and secondly I was wondering if you had any headcanons for peter and mj after he comes back from the events of infinity war?

I have so many thoughts about post-Infinity War. I’ve written a few fics that I will leave links for here and here for you to peruse if you want some of my thoughts on it. BUT here is another version of post-Infinity War for all of you lovely humans. 

tw: violence

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France school shooting: At least 4 shot, 10 injured, suspect arrested

At least 4 people were shot and ten others were injured when a 16-year-old student who had trouble relating with his peers opened fire at a high school in southern France on Thursday. 

The wounded included three other students and the school principal who attempted to intervene in the shooting in School Alexis De Tocqueville in Grasse.

More from IBTimes India: Manchester United vs FC Rostov highlights: Juan Mata sends Man Utd into Europa League quarterfinals

The Interior Ministry spokesman as Killian Barbey said that the suspect, who was armed, was soon arrested after the incident.

The Grasse prosecutor said some of the victims were suffering from “emotional shock”, and that none of the inflicted injuries were considered life threatening.

More from IBTimes India: Disney-Pixar’s Coco: First trailer reveals how Miguel lands in a mythical land of the dead

The government has sent a nationwide terrorist attack warning to smartphones, and police ahave asked the local residents in the area to remain indoors.

The incident reportedly triggered a red alert on France’s Vigipirate terror warning system.

Prosecutor Fabienne Atzori said the student, who was armed with a rifle, several pistols and a small grenade, entered a classroom then left, “not finding the person or people he was searching for.”

“The motivation of the student appears linked to bad relations with other students in this high school in which it appears he had some difficulty integrating,” Atzori said, according to the Associated Press reports.

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“Near the end, Ser Gawen Wylde and three of his knights tried to steal out a postern gate to surrender. Stannis caught them and ordered them flung from the walls with catapults. I can still see Gawen’s face as they strapped him down. He had been our master-at-arms.”

Lord Rowan appeared puzzled. “No men were hurled from the walls. I would surely remember that.”

“Maester Cressen told Stannis that we might be forced to eat our dead, and there was no gain in flinging away good meat.”

~ A Clash of Kings

Your brother Stannis is still holding the garrison strong, sire.

Maester Cressen paused, pondering the words he had written. Should he be addressing Robert Baratheon as “Your Grace”? No, he decided, the letter could fall into the wrong hands. “Sire” was the safest option, able to stand for both “my lord” and “Your Grace.”

As to the rumor regarding our men surrendering to the Tyrell force in droves, I hasten to assure you that there is no truth to it, sire. A few faithless men tried to escape - too few to matter considering the great number of loyal men still manning the garrison at Storm’s End - and those faithless men were caught immediately.

Cressen closed his eyes, and paused again. Forgive me, Gawen. I have wronged you.

Ser Gawen was not faithless. He was a good man tested beyond his endurance, forced to watch good men, women and children starve, forced to watch his own wife sickening until she died abed, forced to contemplate the death of his sons and daughters, all the while powerless to do anything at all.

“I’ll not beg for mercy, maester,” he had told Cressen, in the dark and damp dungeon where he was imprisoned. “It was not for myself that I did what I did. I am not afraid of death. I begged Lord Robert to take me with him to war, but he told me I am needed here. But my children … and all the other children. Little lord Renly, he’s a child too. How could I sit still and do nothing, waiting for them to die? I did it for our young lord too. How long could he last, giving most of his meager share of food to his little brother?”

“It is treason, Gawen. Treason,” Cressen said, his voice breaking. “To surrender to our enemy is treason. And you mean to do more than just surrender your own body. You mean to see to it that Storm’s End falls.”

“I mean to see to it that the siege ends! I mean to see to it that no one else has to die. Aye, aye, I know our young lord will not thank me for it. He is stubborn, that one, stone-cold stubborn, but we have always known that, haven’t we, maester?” The ghost of a smile touched Gawen’s lips. Cressen had to look away to hide his tears.

“And he has promised his brother that he will hold Storm’s End come what may,” Gawen continued. “He’ll not want to break that promise, whatever the cost, we both know that. But if Storm’s End should fall through my treachery, then how could Lord Robert judge him for it? How could anyone judge him harshly for it, when it is not his doing?”

The mess people make of things, Cressen thought, despairingly, when they fail to see, to truly see.

Gawen. Gawen. How you have erred. You have loved our young lord like I did, tried your best to protect him from harm like I did, but you have never understood him. Never! It was never about avoiding his brother’s judgment, or anyone else’s judgment. It is his own harsh judgment Stannis could never escape. He will never forgive himself for breaking the promise he made to his brother, for falling short of his duty.

And he will never forgive you for causing him to fail in his duty.

Stannis was furious, distraught, bewildered, anguished. “If it had been anyone else … but Ser Gawen … Ser Gawen, he gave me my first sword, he taught me everything I knew about fighting. Is betrayal the best I could hope for, even from the likes of him?”

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My first jonerys ficlet. I went in a different direction than I thought I would, but I really wanted this to be inspired by the “bittersweet” ending GRRM had stated will happen. Please comment and tell me what you think! I’d love to write more!

Bittersweet ending for Jon/Daenerys.

Pairings: Jon/Daenerys, Sansa/Jamie

The North had become a dreary place for Queen Daenerys Targaryen. Snow, ice, and demons were all that flashed through her mind as she rode with her Dothraki guard through the villages close to Winterfell. Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, had invited Daenerys to attend a feast held in the honor of her first born, a True Stark. A baby boy with raven hair and brown eyes. Sansa had taken on the position of Queen in the North after the War of the Dawn, as Arya had decided to go back to Storm’s end with Gendry and Bran going beyond the wall with Meera Reed. Daenerys hadn’t even dared to think of the other Stark, well Targaryen(but he would always say “I’m not a Targaryen”), after he had disappeared from her life and her heart three years ago.

As Daenerys rode through the village, she was reminded of all the things she had wanted to forget. After a sword of fire was plunged through the Night King’s heart and Drogon and Rhaegal had fallen from the sky, she wanted to be nowhere near this dreary land again, but Sansa Stark had always been a formidable ally in the siege on King’s Landing after the defeat of the dead. Daenerys had watched the life be choked out of Cersei Lannister by her own brother, Jamie Lannister, after he decided to ride north when Cersei refused to send Lannister troops to help defeat the dead. It seemed Jamie Lannister, who was at one time her worst enemy, had become one of her most formidable allies. It also didn’t help that him and her other closest ally, Sansa, were married after the War of the Dawn, truly uniting all kingdoms. All houses sworn fealty to House Targaryen after the war.  The Seven Kingdoms were once again a peaceful place, yet Daenerys felt no peace.

She had everything she ever dreamed of. Daenerys was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms after all, the most powerful woman in the world. The Seven Kingdoms have never seen the kind of peace and prosperity that Daenerys had brought when she rode Drogon over the burnt down ashes of the Red Keep and brought with her a new hope. Daenerys had King’s Landing rebuilt and more majestic than ever, and a new castle was born with a new throne. Done were the centuries of the ruthless and dreadful Iron throne, a new throne made of shining Dragonglass had taken its place. Flea Bottom has become a hub for world trade and travel, as Daenerys saw fit to clean up the city and give pride back to her people. Daenerys was proud of what she had and all she accomplished, but she never was truly happy.

Daenerys was snapped out of her thoughts when they reached the gates of Winterfell, looking more green than she had ever seen it since Spring had arrived. Sansa and Jamie were there to greet her, as well as Arya and Gendry. He was nowhere to been seen. She didn’t dare hope he would be there, after all it had been three years. Sansa guided Daenerys through the long winding halls of the castle, which seemed to shine with new light. Gone were the dreary black decorations, now filled with vibrant grey, red , and gold decorations resembling the merging off House Stark and House Lannister.

“Tyrion would have loved to be here.” She thought mindlessly making her way through the castle. She always left Tyrion in charge whenever she needed to travel out of King’s Landing. Tyrion was happy his former wife and brother found love after all that had happened to them. He always seemed to remind her that it was also time to move on with her life.

Daenerys couldn’t help but be plunged back into memories again, as she hadn’t been to Winterfell in years.

Heatful arguments in the Great Hall. Informal council meetings in the dining area. The chill of the winter air that never seemed to go away no matter how high the fire. Hours long discussions with Bran in the Godswood. Sparring lessons with Arya in the courtyard. Tyrion drinking himself in oblivion. Tormund and the Wildings eating their body weight In meat. Ser Davos telling stories of Shireen Baratheon to anyone that would hear. Lyanna Mormont laughing during a conversation with Ser Jorah. Drinking wine and talking with Sansa until morning light. Drogon and Rhaegal flying over Winterfell’s walls. White Direwolf steps coming into her room quietly in the night. The fire framing his face when he learned he lost more of his men. Screaming matches of what to do when the Dead reach Winterfell. The feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of ever losing him. The fire in his gaze when they had stopped arguing from exhaustion. The desire looming in her when he touched her cheek. The world melting away when he finally kissed her after all those months ago, on the ship sailing from Dragonstone, which he never wanted to talk about.  The soft gasp that came from him when she touched his scars, and kissed her way down his body not missing one. The way his hand entwined with hers when they finally came together again. The way he whispered “Dany” when they had reached their peak. The way he held her the entire night and kept her warm from the northern chill. The way he looked at her when they woke in the morning, and realized this was their last day on earth.

Bittersweet memories.

“Daenerys?”, Sansa asked.

Daenerys was once again lost in thought for the second time that day.

“I apologize, Lady Sansa, I got lost in thought.” Sansa gave her an empathetic look, as she knew what was running through Dany’s mind as they had passed by his old room.

They had reached the Queen’s chambers when Sansa finally said what she had wanted to say Dany since she arrived. Sansa said it every time she saw her friend.

“He will come back.”

Daenerys entered the room.

“Thank you for your kindness, Sansa. I am quite tired from the journey. I’d like to rest now.”

Sansa gave her an understanding nod and ordered all remaining guards out of the room.

Daenerys looked out of the large window in her room, and Winterfell had never looked so green. She wondered where he was after all these years, if he ever returned to Winterfell. She made sure his siblings never spoke of his whereabouts to her. She didn’t want to know, and she was sure he didn’t want her to know either.

He never wanted to wear the crown. She knew that from the beginning. He wasn’t meant to be a King. He only accepted the role to help protect his people. She always admired him for that, as she was the same way. She wondered if he had traveled to Essos, as they would always talk about doing if they survived the long night. She wondered if he had a woman to warm his bed at night, as she had taken no other man after him. She wondered if he ever thought of her, as she always thought of him.

“I’m not a Targaryen”, he said.

The war for the dead had been over for a week now. King’s landing lie in ash, but Winterfell still stood tall. Daenerys had been named Queen of the Seven Kingdoms that day, and held the coronation in the Great Hall of Winterfell, as King’s Landing was burnt to the ground. Cersei Lannister had kept her promise to burn down all she had tried to build. She had at least kept one promise before her death.

Bran Stark had returned to Winterfell the same day as the coronation. He had some starling news.

He stared awestruck and dumbfounded at Bran when he showed him the vision in the Weirwood.

He didn’t say a word to her when he reentered Winterfell that night. Daenerys knew that he would never accept his true lineage. He always was a Stark, even if he never had the name. She never thought that this revelation would spell doom for him.

He never gave her a reason when he left in the middle of the night. She had been fast asleep in her chambers when she heard footsteps come in the door.

“I love you.” It was she could say to him. She was a queen. A Queen didn’t need to beg for a man to stay.

“I love you too.” It was all he said to her that night and kissed her on the forehead and left.

She never thought he would come back to her. He was too stubborn for that. She could blame Lyanna Stark’s blood for that she supposed. Daenerys would never love another like she loved him.

A knock on the door.

Missandei entered the room with another.

“Mother, what time is the feast?”, a small voice crossed the room.

“In an hour, Rhayella. Go with Missandei and get ready. I want you to look your best.”

She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead and sent her on her way.

It was a month after he had left when she realized that life had sprouted in her womb. She had nearly fainted when the maester at the Keep told her she was with child. Hadn’t she been cursed when the witch had taken her sun and stars from her? She didn’t know if she wanted to cry of joy or sadness. All she knew is that no one would ever know it was his. Sansa and Tyrion the only ones who ever truly found out. They had kept their relationship a secret during the war. She touched her growing stomach, and cried.

As Rhayella exited the chamber, she thought of a black-haired man bouncing a baby girl with blonde hair and grey eyes on his knees. She thought of a house with a red door with a lemon tree growing outside the window.

She signed and turned back to the window, overlooking the spring that had just arrived.

If you think this story has a happy ending, you’d be wrong.