who are the looters

10

Situated on the eastern border of Turkey, across the Akhurian River from Armenia, lies the empty, crumbling site of the once-great metropolis of Ani, known as “the city of a thousand and one churches.” Founded more than 1,600 years ago, Ani was situated on several trade routes, and grew to become a walled city of more than 100,000 residents by the 11th century. In the centuries that followed, Ani and the surrounding region were conquered hundreds of times – Byzantine emperors, Ottoman Turks, Armenians, nomadic Kurds, Georgians, and Russians claimed and reclaimed the area, repeatedly attacking and chasing out residents. By the 1300s, Ani was in steep decline, and it was completely abandoned by the 1700s. Rediscovered and romanticized in the 19th century, the city had a brief moment of fame, only to be closed off by World War I and the later events of the Armenian Genocide that left the region an empty, militarized no-man’s land. The ruins crumbled at the hands of many: looters, vandals, Turks who tried to eliminate Armenian history from the area, clumsy archaeological digs, well-intentioned people who made poor attempts at restoration, and Mother Nature herself. (via)

1. the monastery of the hripsimian virgins.

2.  the mausoleum of the child princes.

3. the church of st. gregory of tigran honents.

4. the view of ani from armenia.

5. the walls of ani.

6. the cathedral of ani.

7.  inscription on the cathedral’s exterior wall.

8. frescoes inside the st. gregory of tigran honents church.

9. the church of the holy redeemer.

10. on the right, the citadel, and on the left, the mosque of minuchihir.

10

The Ancient Ghost City of Ani

Situated on the eastern border of Turkey, across the Akhurian River from Armenia, lies the empty, crumbling site of the once-great metropolis of Ani, known as “the city of a thousand and one churches.” Founded more than 1,600 years ago, Ani was situated on several trade routes, and grew to become a walled city of more than 100,000 residents by the 11th century. In the centuries that followed, Ani and the surrounding region were conquered hundreds of times – Byzantine emperors, Ottoman Turks, Armenians, nomadic Kurds, Georgians, and Russians claimed and reclaimed the area, repeatedly attacking and chasing out residents. By the 1300s, Ani was in steep decline, and it was completely abandoned by the 1700s. 

Rediscovered and romanticized in the 19th century, the city had a brief moment of fame, only to be closed off by World War I and the later events of the Armenian Genocide that left the region an empty, militarized no-man’s land. The ruins crumbled at the hands of many: looters, vandals, Turks who tried to eliminate Armenian history from the area, clumsy archaeological digs, well-intentioned people who made poor attempts at restoration, and Mother Nature herself. Restrictions on travel to Ani have eased in the past decade, allowing the following photos to be taken.

Images and text via

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Fenris's first night in the mansion and maybe his first impression of Hawke?

The firewood was soft in Fenris’ hands. The rot breaking apart when he picked it from the stack, the smell of mildew wafting in the air around him. He looked up and grumbled at the cracked ceiling above it, the wood stained by water and ruined from years of neglect. He dropped the piece back on the useless pile and shot another look around the room. He had already gathered the strewn papers for kindling, the remaining furniture was coated in dust, tossed aside during the earlier battle he had fought to gain this ground. One of the thrown chairs had a split up its leg, Fenris pulled it back and the wood creaked and split apart. Perfect. Within two minutes Fenris had it pulled into strips, the other legs torn into its pieces and arranged in the hearth.

The paper caught and the wood carried the flame, lighting up the wet and dusty parlour. Warming the dead space. Satisfied with the completion of that task, Fenris left the room to find what else could be pilfered for his new strong hold. The foray of the manor was dark, it smelled of blood and the leavings of rats. But even so, Fenris could imagine the manor back when Danarius had stayed here, whenever that had been. He could picture the luxuries and niceties, the ‘servants’ bent on the floor scrubbing at the stone or leaving the kitchens with platters of meats and fruits and bottle of wine. Now it was empty, void, and wild. Littered with the forgotten and looked over trinkets and furniture and the bodies of those Danarius had sent after him.

Fenris found a bedroom, lingered in the doorway with his eyes scanning for anywhere a slaver could be hiding. The chests and closets were open, rotted cloth trailing from them that were deemed useless by the looters and robbers who came before him. Fenris took the mattress from the four poster, dragged it along the ground and up the stairs. The top parlour was the safest place in the manor, the most advantageous room for when the slavers and hunters would return. When Danarius finally showed his face.

The mattress flopped in front of the hearth, sheets torn and holes bitten into the fabric holding it together. But it was soft, better than sleeping on the hard floor or outside. And it was free, which was good, since Fenris’ coin was close to running out again. And at least he was alive another night. It had been another close call that night, if he had not employed the help of that human and his group he might not be here in front of this fire. He was indebted to them, to that human Hawke, and it did not feel entirely comfortable. The man had been willing to help him tonight for nothing, had expressed a moral objection to Fenris’ previous ensalvement which was…. more than most people had shown Fenris. There was an easy way about that man, something soft in the way he had simply followed Fenris to fight a magister. But it couldn’t be that simple, it was never that simple. Fenris had decided he wanted to be an honest free man, to hold to his word, so he would repay what he owed Hawke.

But Fenris could not help but feel that familiar anxiety and fear as he laid down for the night. He could not let his guard down, not ever, the chances Hawke would deceive him were too high.  

bttfboy  asked:

Hey I was just wondering if the characters were in the Alien universe who would die via chestburster, who would die via fully grown xenomorph, who would die via android, and who would die via looters

I really need to watch more movies….

Heroics

Prompt: Reader is a civilian trying to save people from the EAs during the war with Enchantress. Croc rescues her when she gets knocked unconscious - and from there she sides with the Squad.

Requested by: @justcallmecinammon

Warnings: Slight language - female-oriented pronouns. 

Notes: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy! Also, I put it under a ‘keep reading’ because it’s pretty long - at least by my standards. And I don’t want to clog the tag up. 

Keep reading

TED Grant Goes to Archaeologist Who Combats Looting With Satellite Technology

Her laptop brims with satellite images pitted with thousands of black dots, evidence of excavations across Egypt where looters have tunneled in search of mummies, jewelry and other valuables prized by collectors, advertised in auction catalogs and trafficked on eBay, a criminal global black market estimated in the billions of dollars.

“For the first time technology has gotten to the point where we can map looting,” said Sarah H. Parcak, a pioneering “space archaeologist,” founding director of the University of Alabama’s Laboratory for Global Observation in Birmingham and an associate professor there.

Satellite eyes in the sky, which have transformed the worldwide search for buried archaeological treasures, are now being used to spy on the archenemies of cultural preservation: armies of looters who are increasingly pockmarking ancient sites with illicit digs and making off with priceless patrimony. Read more.

anonymous asked:

So first of all I loveeee your writing, and since I have the writing capacity of a grain of rice I was wondering if you would do some hc off of a vague dream I had: The Mag7 gang in the Wild West... with zombies 🤓😎 Sorry I'm so lame haha. But how do you think the guys would act in a zombie apocalypse?? Maybe I am too excited for TWD to return.

Buddy, you gotta tell me more about this dream. Also, never ever ever apologize for a request! Especially one where I get to do zombie tropes ;)


Chisolm: I think it goes without saying that he takes the role of Team Leader. I’d say aside from Billy, he’s the best at keeping calm in intense situations. His main drive is to get to Lincoln, Kansas. His family is out there and he needs to make sure they’re alive. He’s really the only one in in the group with something worth fighting for, so the others decide to make his drive, their drive, as well. 

Faraday: Is just so annoyed by the entire situation. Booze and women and cigarettes and cigars are basically off the table. Everyone is sick of playing cards with him because he’s a sore winner and a sore loser. He still gets to shoot things, but it’s somewhat discouraged because the noise attracts more zombies. His horse got spooked at the beginning of it all and ran off. He got a tear in his vest that keeps growing, and he doesn’t really have the means to fix it/get a new one. So like…literally everything he loves has been taken away and he is just so. God. Damn. Annoyed. 

Red Harvest: Half his tribe was killed by the zombies. The other half was killed by looters who used guns against their arrows. He ended up being the last man standing. The group doesn’t trust him, at first, but he quickly proves to be a valuable asset by teaching them better ways to use their surroundings for survival. Specifically, he focuses on teaching them archery. It helps them save ammunition, and they’re able to take out the dead without the sounds of gunshots attracting more. 

Jack: Right in front of his eyes, he saw his wife and children go down, so he holds the most hatred towards the zombies, and is typically the first one to go charging recklessly at them. Also, while every other member of the group has said to Sam (in one way or another) that his family is probably dead, Jack is the one to shut everyone up and tell them to have some faith. In his mind, Sam’s family is alive. He needs Sam’s family to be alive. Saving them is the only way he can hope to get a little closure on his own loss.

Goodnight: His PTSD gets triggered way more often now. Especially when he sees zombies wearing uniforms from the war. Luckily, he has Billy to keep tabs on him, and no matter what, when it’s his shift to keep watch, Billy joins him. But even though Goodnight’s PTSD makes things especially difficult for him, he is great at being the strategy guy. 

Billy: He helps Red Harvest with weapons training, thought he, of course, focuses on knife usage. On scavenging missions, the group does a pretty good job of rotating who goes and who stays to watch their camp, but no matter what, Billy always goes as leader of the away team. He is likely the top guy when it comes to saving his group mates’ asses. 

Vasquez: Even before the break out, he didn’t particularly have anything that gave him any drive, so when he joins the group, he actually finds that he’s happier than he ever was…despite the whole zombie thing. Granted, he tries to be low key about it, because he wouldn’t want any of them thinking he was soft (though Chisolm sees right through him). He’s somewhat of a morale booster, and is always putting others’ lives before his own. 

4

The Michigan relics were a series of supposedly ancient artifacts that appeared to prove that people of an ancient Near Eastern culture had lived in the American state of Michigan. However, they were actually archaeological forgeries.

In 1890, James Scotford of Edmore, Michigan, claimed that he had found a number of artifacts, including a clay cup with strange symbols and carved tablets, with symbols that looked vaguely hieroglyphic. He put them forward as evidence that people from the Near East or Europe had lived in America. The find attracted interest and also eager looters who arrived to look for more artifacts.

Scotford joined forces with Daniel E. Soper, former Michigan Secretary of State, and together they presented thousands of objects made of various materials, supposedly found in 16 counties all over Michigan. They included coins, pipes, boxes, figurines and cuneiform tablets that depicted various biblical scenes, including Moses handing out the tablets of the Ten Commandments. On November 14, 1907, the Detroit News reported that Soper and Scotford were selling copper crowns they had supposedly found on heads of prehistoric kings, and copies of Noah’s diary. Scotford often arranged a local person to witness him “unearthing” the objects.

Although many authorities and collectors declared the objects fraudulent, Scotford and Soper had a large number of believing customers. In 1911, one John A. Russell published a pamphlet, “Prehistoric discoveries in Wayne County, Michigan,” in which he argued for their authenticity. James Savage, former pastor of the Most Holy Trinity Catholic Church in Detroit, bought 40 of the objects. Savage believed them to be “remains relevant to the descendants of the Lost Tribes of Israel,” and continued to believe in the relics until his death.

Archaeologists and historians quickly concluded that the objects were forgeries. On July 28, 1911, professor Frederick Starr of the University of Chicago declared in the Detroit News that the so-called relics were fakes. Mary Robson, who lived a room next door to Scotford’s sons Percy and Charles, stated that the boys manufactured more “relics” all the time. In 1911, Scotford’s stepdaughter signed an affidavit in which she stated that she had seen him making the objects.

The finds attracted the interest of LDS Church members, and in 1909, Mormon scientist James E. Talmage participated in a “dig” and then thoroughly tested the artifacts in his lab back in Utah. His investigations led him to label the artifacts as frauds. In August 1911, he published a work on his findings titled “The ‘Michigan Relics’: A Story of Forgery and Deception.”[2]

Scotford and Soper never confessed, but no more objects were found after they died.

So you think that money is the root of all evil? […] Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears, or of the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?
—  Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged
2

To the naysayers who say the military presence in Ferguson was because of the “looters” (mainly without understanding why they were angry enough to loot but that’s another story for another day).

I say, speak to a resident of Ferguson before you blindly throw out ridiculous theories. Follow their stories on Twitter and Instagram. They are speaking, you are not listening. 

Listen if you want the truth. Don’t create your own. 

WHAT I KNOW ABOUT CURRENT CRIMES AGAINST BLACK
  • MIKE BROWN,BLACK, GOT SHOT SIX TIMES
  • 12 YEAR OLD BLACK BOY SHOT BECAUSE HE HAD A TOY GUN
  • BLACK COP GOT SHOT WHILE HE WAS RUNNING TO HELP HIS DAUGHTER WHO HAD BREATHING PROBLEM.
  • A BLACK BOY GOT SHOT BY COPS WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR TO HIS APARTMENT. FOR NO REASON AT ALL. 
  • A BLACK MAN GOT SHOT FOR HAVING A TOY SWORD AS HE COSPLAYED. 
  • A FERGUSON PROTESTER GOT SHOT IN THE EYE BY POLICE AND LOST HER VISION.
  • THE TV CENSURED THE PROTESTERS IN THE NEW YORK MACY PARADE.
  • A PROTESTER IS GOING TO JAIL FOR THROWING RED PAINT AT A NEW YORK COMMISSIONER
  • FERGUSON FAMILY FINDS HANGING ROPE IN THEIR YARD. (OBVIOUSLY KKK DOING)
  • KKK LEADER MENTIONS THEY HAVE TALKED TO FERGUSON POLICE.
  • DARREN WILSON MENTIONS HE WILL SHOOT MIKE BROWN AGAIN.
  • THE AUTOPSY FOR MIKE BROWN WAS CONDUCTED BY A PERSON WHO DIDN’T HAVE THE RIGHT.
  • DARREN WILSON FAILED TO DO THE CORRECT PROCEDURE.
  • THE EVIDENCE FOR MIKE BROWN’S CASE HAS BEEN ALTERED WITH. 
  • RIGHT NOW PROTESTERS HAVE STOPPED THE BLACK FRIDAY. 
  • THE FERGUSON POLICE HAVE BEEN GIVEN MILITARY GUNS AND OUTFITS AND ARE NOT FOLLOWING THE PROCEDURES.
  • PEOPLE ARE BURNING BUILDINGS, BUT THERE HAS BEEN WITNESS THAT THEY WERE WHITE.
  • THE NEWS DON’T SHOW THAT PROTESTERS HELP CLEAN UP FERGUSON.
  • THERE ARE PEACEFUL PROTESTERS, THEN THE LOOTERS, THEN PEOPLE WHO JUST GO TO MAKE VIOLENCE JUST BECAUSE.
  • MIKE BROWN’S WITNESS FRIEND, HAD HIS FRIEND KILLED IN THE PROTEST YET NEWS DON’T MENTION THAT.
  •  THE GOVERNMENT SAID THEY WEREN’T THROWING TEAR GAS WHEN THEY DID. 
  • PROTESTERS AID FOR HELP ONE THEY WERE THROWN TEAR GAS, BUT INSTEAD ARE BEATEN UP BY POLICE. 
  • TUMBLR IS DELETING FERGUSON POSTS. YOUTUBE ALSO.

Instead of raising money to bail out the looters and arsonists who hijacked the protests, why not raise money to help rebuild the homes and businesses destroyed by these instigators in Ferguson? I’m calling on supporters from both sides of the table to step up and help rebuild the community, which was devastated as a result of these events.

First Contact

They were arguing again. Elissa could hear it, though she’d long since learned to tune them out. The incessant murmuring of her brother and her intended husband dulled down into a subtle –though exceptionally annoying– hum. Until they forced her to acknowledge it.

Shut up.” It was instruction clearly given, her eyes never leaving the path she walked up toward the outskirts of the upper city. The skyline taking shape now into row after row of gray-stoned masonry, so similar, yet so far removed from the Highever castle where she’d spent most of her life.

Their muttering silenced, but was quickly replaced by the sound of boot heels grinding into gravel as one of them increased the pace of their steps to catch up with her –her brother, from the sound of it. Nathaniel knew better than to keep pressing when she had long since passed the point of having nothing further to say.

“This is folly, Elissa. The cities are overrun. Starkhaven was overrun.”

Green eyes narrowed and she peered at him from the corner through the tangled curls of her hair. “This is not Starkhaven.”

“You’re absolutely right. This is Kirkwall. The largest city in the Marches. What we saw in Starkhaven… this will be a thousand times worse. We should not be going here, Elissa. We should no–” The large, auburn-headed man’s words cut off when his sister stopped walking and spun to face him. He shifted anxiously on his feet for a moment, but he did not back down.

“We have to pass through the city to get to the docks, Fergus.” Those eyes flicked further back for a moment, fixing to Nathaniel where he’d stopped, arms folded and looking exceptionally annoyed to have to watch his companions fight it out, again.

“No, Elissa. No we don’t. We can circumvent the city. We can run the edge.” He shook his head and set his jaw, cerulean eyes locking onto emerald and refusing to give.

Elissa took in and released a long, supremely-annoyed breath, and then replied: “Circumventing the city would take at least a week. A week during which we would be forced either to enter the city regardless in search of shelter or to camp completely unprotected in the scrub-land at the edge of the plate. A week’s worth of time that we do not have, lest you have forgotten.”

She glared at her brother, pointedly, with the last of this. Then back at Nathaniel. Turning to walk once more when they both remained silent, their eyes dropping down to the road rather than stand up to the look she was giving them. “We need supplies to make the voyage. These estates will have them. We’ll stick to the edges, take what we need, get back before sundown. Tomorrow we scout the city and move forward toward the docks. End of discussion.”

“I don’t know when you think you got put in ch–”

His words stopped with her footsteps, Fergus hissing something at the other man in warning, though it was far too late for that. When she turned back around the tension in her shoulders was evident in the militaristic rigidity of her posture.

“I got put in charge when the world ended and my combat-trained brother cried in the corner with his family while you lamented Ferelden’s loss in the bottom of whatever bottle you could find. You gave up. Both of you did. You. Gave. Up.” The last of this she hissed in each of their faces, body shaking in barely contained rage. “If either one of you has found your balls again, feel free to take over, but until you do I am in charge and I say we are scavenging these homes and then blazing a path across the city to the docks. Suck it up, shut your mouths, and get moving. We are wasting daylight wading through this trivial shite again.”

~//—//~

An hour of silence later Elissa found an access point she favored, stopping in back of the decaying monument to extravagance to wait for the others to catch up to where she’d led. “There.”

“All the bottom windows are busted out.” Fergus shook his head. “Nothing left in that one now but walkers.”

Elissa sighed and rolled her eyes. “That one’s got roof access to the one next door. The one that's obviously been boarded and trapped to keep walkers and breathers out. That’s where we’re headed. I can promise you we’ll find supplies in there.”

“And whomever it was that trapped the place.” Nathaniel rasped, moving in to stand at Elissa’s other side. “Those are pigeon spikes, and over there, that’s rigging for a blade trap. Whoever is staying here has gone out of their way to protect it from looters. It’s the living who are dangerous now, not the dead.”

“Whoever is in there also took the time to put up witty little signs on the windows warning people they were trapped, or did you fail to notice that in your preliminary scan of the building?” A single dark eyebrow arched up in challenge, the arms that had been folded moving to plant hands on her hips. “That little detail tells me that of the lot of us, I am by far the most dangerous, so we are going in there to see what they have that we need and leaving with it.”

“So, what, your plan is to threaten whoever it is that’s living in there until they hand things over? Or worse?” Fergus paced away from her, and then back again, shaking his head. “I’m not killing a person who’s done nothing wrong, Elissa. I’m not that kind of man. I won’t let what’s happened to the world make a monster of me.”

“Then you will die! You both will! Your ridiculous senses of honor are meaningless now!” She hissed back, leaning forward to meet his eyes. “And you, brother, are being unnecessarily dramatic. I never said I planned to kill anyone. I can be incredibly convincing.”

Her expression shifted over into an enticing smile, eyes softening, the swell of her bottom lip parting slightly away from the top. There was a momentary, visible, reaction in the warrior’s facial expression before he erased it, buried behind his usual mask of neutrality. The only sign that it had been there at all was a muscle twitching dangerously in his jaw when she walked away.

Nathaniel watched the exchange, eyes narrowing for a moment though he remained silent, his own strides lengthened to pass by the still-standing warrior and catch up to his frustrating almost-fiance. “Go in through the lower windows, then? Clear the place?”

“Go up the outside tree to the third story window landing. From there the stone is rough enough that a free climb to the roof won’t be difficult.” She replied, tugging fingerless gloves free from her pockets and slipping them onto her hands. Effortlessly she made her way into the bottom branches, eyes combing over the rest of the tree for the easiest pathway up to the ledge she had indicated.

The ranger shook his head, releasing a slow, irritable breath as he glared up toward where she’d already climbed. “You’re always going on about wasting daylight, wasting time, wasting resources. Well this is wasting energy.”

“No, this is being smart.” She clipped back, barely taking the time to look down at him from the lowest branches before she turned her head and continued upward. “Like you said, place is likely filled with walkers by now, and dealing with those things in tight, dark spaces is a lot more difficult than I care to manage. That is a waste of energy, and a risk I don’t care to take.”

“Climbing up trees and building facades like squirrels is risky.” Nathaniel countered, though he pushed the toe of his boot into the bark of the tree and pulled himself up behind her.

“Just don’t fall.” She barked back, still not turning to look at him or even seeming to care whether or not her brother had chosen to follow them. “Broken leg and you’re walker bait.”

~//—//~

Twenty minutes later they stood on the roof of the adjacent manor, piecing together a makeshift bridge from two dressers they’d smashed apart in the upper rooms to span across the gap and the first row of pigeon spikes. After a few kicks and pulls to test it, they shifted it into place, watching as the metal spikes bent harmlessly beneath the thick, polished wood.

“Go.” Elissa said, glancing back at her brother and sighing in irritation when he didn’t move. “You are the heaviest among us, if it holds you, it holds us all.”

“And if I fall?”

“Nathaniel will shoot you in your head before you get eaten.” She responded, her expression as blank as her tone of voice.

Fergus stepped forward, one boot on the bridge as he leaned down into his sister’s face, so close their noses brushed together. “You are a cold, heartless, bitch.”

She closed the remaining between them, lips nearly brushing his as she spat back through a clenched jaw. “And you are a coward. Now, go! Go before I push you off myself.”

Her head turned to watch his progress, the wood creaking and bowing as he hit the midway point. She slapped a palm down against the center of Nathaniel’s chest when his toe nudged over the edge of the wood and onto the bridge, withdrawing it only once Fergus stepped off the other end onto the bare roof opposite the pigeon spikes. “Now you may go.”

Nathaniel stared at her for a moment, head tilting as his mercurial eyes locked onto the glittering emeralds looking up at him. His lips parted in preparation for the words that had formed in his mind, but nothing would come. leaving him with only her orders to follow and a bridge to be crossed.

When he too had stepped off the other side, Elissa stepped on, almost casually striding across the gap. She was barking out orders to get through the boards and the glass on the window before her feet had even touched the tar atop the manor roof, and though it was clear Fergus and Nathaniel were thinking any number of unpleasant things about her, they as they were told, making quick work of the first layer of defenses standing between them and their quarry.

“Can you disarm it?” Elissa asked, watching as Nathaniel sat down and leaned back, his fingers working along the edge of the window as he searched for the trigger of one of the traps he’d pointed out from the ground below

“Given time and the ability to focus.” He rasped, momentarily glancing up at her.

Her expression shifted slightly into an emotionless smirk. “You have two minutes.”

“Look. I can disarm it.” Fergus bellowed, hand reaching for the hilt of his broadsword where it was anchored between his shoulder blades. “I’ll just–”

Elissa’s eyes moved from the ranger, to the warrior, freezing him in place even before she said: “Sticking your blade in there will damage it, and do you know what good a damaged broadsword is? None. Leave it where it is. Nathaniel will disarm it.”

“Your faith in my abilities would be far more complimentary had you not just given me a two-minute deadline.”

“Don’t look at it as a deadline.” She replied with a smile that mimicked something friendly. “Look at it as a quickly expiring timer at the end of which I’ll disarm the trap with your head.”

Nathaniel chuckled humorlessly, pushing a broken piece of pigeon spike against the trigger and yanking it back just before the blade slid by, rendering the mechanism harmless. “My lady.” He said, inclining his head slightly in her direction.

He glanced up at her brother after she passed, a part of him no longer certain the threats she leveled were being delivered in jest, but Fergus’s expression was a blank slate. The Couslands hid their hands well before they played them. They always had.

~//—//~

Stepping into the bedroom through which they’d entered revealed the interior of the home to be in far worse condition than the exterior had indicated. Nathaniel allowed his eyes to pass over the faded, mildewed wallpaper in the dusty room with disgust. “Who lived here?”

“No one who has anything we need.” Fergus snorted, shaking his head as he tugged open the drawers and tossed open the boxes stored inside the closet.

Elissa didn’t look at all discouraged as she moved through the room toward the doorway. “Someone whose luck ran out before the fall.”

She exited the room and progressed cautiously down the hallway in search of the master bedroom where, she assumed, whomever had taken up roost here would be living. Even in a rundown home, the master suite would be the  best cared for as the owners would have lived there and put what money and time they had left into maintaining it. Her lips curled up the moment she found it, the interior of the space proving her right even before she’d stepped inside to explore it. The condition of both the furniture and the room were far superior to anything else they’d seen, and there were pathways through the dust leading to the closet, the door of which was shut.

“Ellie?”

“In here!” Elissa called back to her brother, watching as he appeared from a nearby room with Nathaniel, the pair of them heading in her direction.

She made her way over to the closet door, unsurprised to find it locked. Fergus and Nathaniel started to search through the rest of the room until she stopped them. “Don’t bother. Anything worth having in this room is in this closet.” She insisted, pulling her lock picks out of her hair.

“You know that door is rigged, right?” Nate griped, stepping forward.

“That’s what I have you for.” She clipped, glancing up at him when the lock released. “Your turn.”

The ranger rolled his eyes, but leaned over, opening the door just enough to catch sight of a wire leading from the interior nob to the trigger of a shotgun that had been placed against the rear wall of the closet. “Good thing you didn’t pull that knob, you’d have ruined your pretty face.”

“And what a shame that would be.” She deadpanned, lips curling up in a mirthless smile. “Disarm it.”

“Yes m'lady.” He grumbled, eyes following her for a moment as she stood and paced away before he pulled them back to the task she’d instructed him to complete. A few moments of painstakingly careful progress later, he had the trigger pull in hand, and stood against the back wall watching as Elissa began to rummage through what they’d found.

Elissa took anything edible immediately, sectioning it off to the side of the bags and boxes where she’d found it while she continued to search for more. “Pack.” She said, holding a hand up, fingers curling in command. When Nathaniel didn’t pass it down to her, she looked up, eyes narrowing at the look on his face. “What?”

“People are living here, Elissa.”

Were living here. They aren’t here now and it’s possible that–”

“Lots of things are possible, but I don’t think we should–”

“We are taking this food. Understood?” Elissa stood with several cans in hand, shoving them roughly into the ranger’s, the tone of her voice making it clear the topic was not up for discussion. “We are taking it, and anything else useful we find, and then we are heading back out of town for the night.”

Nathaniel said nothing as she loaded the pack, his eyes moving over to find Fergus’s. The larger man shrugged and offered him no support, instead heading out of the closet entirely.

“I’m going to head downstairs. See if I can’t find anything else we can use.” The warrior muttered, disappearing into the hallway.

“You do that.” Elissa clipped in response, her eyes never leaving Nathaniel’s. “Something else you want to say?”

He paused for a moment, the gears in his mind clearly turning in thought. “You’ve changed, Ellie. And not in a good way.”

She said nothing in response to his statement, the expression on her face remaining rigid and blank as she shoved the last of the food into the satchel on his back and stepped out of the closet. “Come along, then. There are a lot of rooms left to search, and left to his own devices Fergus is certain to trip one of the booby traps the Porn King set up.”

“Porn Ki–” Nate followed her eyes down to a stash of skin rags and he snorted. “Maybe I should take some.”

“Feel free.” Her tone was emotionless as she moved out the door and into the hall, the ranger trailing behind her.

“Or you could just show me yours.”

“Unlikely.” She rolled her eyes and headed into a room at the end of the hall, listening to his humorless laughter trailing behind him as he made his way down the stairs to find her brother.

~//—//~

Lowtown. Hightown. As much of Darktown as he could see, then back again on a circuit. It was the same this morning as it had been every day before. Every day for three months.

At first he went looking for signs of life. People who might have needed his help. Survivors who wanted to band together to increase their odds against those who had not. But in the initial days following the outbreak, people were still wary of apostates. There were some who held them (somehow) responsible for what had happened, refusing to believe that the world had been ended by pure biology. No one else had ended it at all.

Now he went because it had become habit. He’d watched as the survivors dwindled, their number added to the growing rank of the undead. He’d watched the undead begin to migrate out of the cities when their food sources dwindled, though at this stage it was only small groups of them. The majority of the horde stayed stable, meandering sluggishly through the crumbling streets of the city as their bodies fell victim rigor and decay.

He kept an eye on the few alliances he’d made within the surviving population, and watched as those numbers decreased until only two remained. Two who refused to leave the city in spite of his warnings, leaving him with no choice but to continue his observation in the hope that he could prevent the same fate from befalling them.

It was for this reason he noticed the newcomers making their way into town, though he hadn’t managed to find them at their origin, they just suddenly were where they hadn’t been before, drawing his avian eyes to take notice. They moved with purpose, and were heavily armed. He perched on a nearby telephone pole and watched, hoping they would avoid the one home that mattered, but unsurprised when they headed straight for it.

>He’d told the idiot those signs were a bad idea.

After pausing momentarily to consider his options, he took off, circling back down to the edge of the Lowtown plate and the abandoned apartment complex where he’d taken up residence with two others of his kind. Clawed feet shifted effortlessly over into bare feet as he dropped down atop the roof, the motion of flight seamlessly carried over into walking as he moved through the doors and into the top stairwell, tugging on the clothing stowed there as he called out to his companions. 

“We need to make a trip out.” He called, yanking his shirt into place. “Some people are breaking into Gamlen’s place, and he’s out. Not sure what their intentions are, but things are likely to get ugly if we don’t intervene." 

remember how I said cops murdered innocent people

then other people used this as a pretext to rob other innocent people

then other people used that as an excuse to spread hatred about yet other innocent people

this is the bullshit I mean, look at the first sentence after  the headline

fucking cops murdered somebody and who get’s punished for it?

Innocent business owners who happen to be in the area, by getting their businesses looter and destroyed

and innocent black people who are being lumped in with criminals by fucking assholes like the person who wrote this article.

The bad guys here are:

  • The Cops
  • The Rioters/Looters
  • The Bigots in the media and elsewhere

It’s amazing how the white people who are calling the protesters in ferguson “monkeys”, “uneducated”, “thugs”, “looters”, etc are the same damn people lined up to see movies about dystopian societies and rebelling against oppression like “The Giver” and “Divergent”

fuckme50shadesofrough  asked:

I support the Mike Brown protests all the way not since actual information has been given, but, my main issue all stands with the protestors who burned down a gas station and began looting. Did that really happen, or was that the media's idea?

Yes, the QT was burned (and was allegedly set to be remodeled anyway) and there were a few reports of looting. However you should know that there have been hundreds, if not thousands, of peaceful protesters and only a handful of looters, some who may have been from out of town. Many protesters also stepped up and protected local businesses from looters because police weren’t doing anything about it.

Here’s all the info I have on looting:

** Shipping Update for October FEAR Crate **

Hello, Looters! We wanted to update you on the current status of shipping for our customers with regard to this month’s crate. Here at Loot Crate we’re always looking to find better, more efficient ways to get your orders out to you, including of course our overseas looters who usually have to wait longer with shipping times, customs, etc. for their crates to arrive.

As a result, this month we enacted a new shipping plan and, unexpectedly, the delivery times for a portion of our customers were much shorter than we had anticipated or were told to expect. The good news is - faster shipping times moving forward! Unfortunately, it also means that for this month, some of our Looters people will receive their crates much sooner than our intended delivery dates of October 20th-25th. (UPDATE 10/15: The shipping for this month is affecting both international and domestic customers, many of whom will receive their crates early. Tracking emails will be sent out beginning Friday, 10/17; please allow a few days for email to arrive.) 

We would really like to try to preserve the surprise of our crate contents, as we always do. Therefore, we would simply ask our subscribers if you receive your crate this week, as a courtesy please do not post images on social media or upload your unboxing videos just yet.

If at all possible, waiting until Monday, October 20th will ensure that most of our subscribers have begun to receive their crates. If you could help us band together this week, it would be a really awesome thing for the Looter community at large, and we can all share in the excitement soon!

Thank you all for understanding.

We love you <3

Team Loot Crate

I don’t get how people are still turning a blind eye to the Ferguson conflict.
“It’s not a racial issue!”
“People are just being dramatic.”
“The protesters are taking it way too far!”
“Nothing is wrong!”
“You’re not seeing both sides of the story!”
Bullshit.
Bull. Shit.
Get out of my face.
So you don’t think it’s a racial issue? Fine. Look at it this way:
An eighteen-year-old boy with his whole life ahead of him is shot while walking down the street with his friend.
I don’t care if you think he stole from a convenience store. I don’t care if you think he was a thug. He was a person. And you can’t sit here and honestly tell me that Mike Brown deserved what Darren Wilson did to him. People have been arrested for way less than what Darren Wilson did. And yet still no indictment. Not to mention the GAPING HOLES IN WILSON’S STORY. AND THE FACT THAT NOTHING HE’S SAID HAS MADE ANY SENSE.
So you think people are over reacting? Well ok. Consider the fact that the AMERICAN REVOLUTION got started over a 3% tax on fucking TEA. “No taxation without representation!” remember that? Well now you pay up to 70% of your earnings to a De Facto corporate government. You are groped at the airport, surveilled on the streets, spied upon in your own home, fed propaganda by the media, lied to by your representatives, have your rights eroded, your currency devalued, and are on the verge of an overt police state. AND NOW certain people can’t even walk the streets without being MURDERED.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO “LAND OF THE FREE” AND “HOME OF THE BRAVE”???
So you think the PROTESTORS are the ones taking it to far? Alrighty then consider the fact that police were decked out in riot gear, Missouri declared a state of emergency, and the national guard got called in BEFORE the grand jury announcement. Don’t confuse looters with protestors. Then you are just being blatantly obtuse. Police have repeatedly shown us how they think. They see no difference between adult and child. All they see is someone to conquer, someone to force into submission.
Instead of checking out the damage looters ((who, need I remind you, are in no way affiliated with the movement)) have done, why don’t you take a moment to see the damage your so called “civil - servants” have done.“Protect and serve” my ass.
Consider the fact that a policeman used an ILLEGAL CHOKE HOLD ON A MAN WHO HAD JUST BROKEN UP A FIGHT AND KILLED HIM FOR SELLING UNTAXED CIGARETTES. AND JUST LIKE DARREN WILSON, THERE WILL BE NO INDICTMENT. CONSIDER THE FACT THAT A POLICEMAN SHOT A TWELVE YEAR OLD LITTLE BOY FOR HOLDING A TOY WEAPON. LITERALLY 1.5 SECONDS AND TAMIR RICE’S LIFE WAS OVER. TWELVE YEARS OLD. HE WAS
A CHILD! GET OUT OF MY FACE IF YOU’RE NOT OUTRAGED THERE IS NO HOPE FOR YOU.
EVERYTHING is wrong. The system is broken, and of we don’t do something, its gonna take us down with it. People are TIRED of burying their children. People are TIRED of half-assed “justice”.
Wake the fuck up. Open your goddamn eyes. People are SUFFERING. We refuse to let it continue any longer.

Libertarians are 'silent' about Ferguson: say people with ears plugged

by the way, that post about how “libertarians are fucking SILENT” about Ferguson and the police was in the libertarian tag directly after a long and thoughtful post critiquing the militarization of police, the history of police abuse and racism, the murder of Michael Brown, and the suppressions of civil liberties in the name of riot control.

Two posts above it we see an article linked from hipsterlibertarian pointing out how the pentagon (you know the feds everyone thinks should be given more power to solve this problem) supplied the Ferguson police with it’s “military apparatus being used against civilians”.

and two more posts above that we have Bonnie again, this time posting a quote from Kevin Williamson at National Review criticizing the withholding from the people of the name of the officer who murdered Michael Brown at the same that they are publicizing the names of looters.

And directly above that we have a post of libertarian-fellow-traveler in the House of Reps Justin Amash’s tweet calling the police response in Feguson “frightening” and indicative of a war-zone, criticizing the gov’t for “escalating tensions w/ military equipment and tactics”