zebbe

3

Is the Zebb Quinn mystery close to being solved?

UPDATE: And it’s happened. Robert Jason Owens has been indicted and charged with the first degree murder of Zebb Quinn on July 10, 2017.

Previously…

Zebb Quinn’s disappearance in January 2nd, 2000, is probably one of the strangest we’ve heard about, mostly because of the unexplainable findings and suspicious coincidences that surrounded it. New developments that happened last year, however, could hopefully give some closure to this case, and they are related to Robert Jason Owens, the man who’s being the main person of interest in his vanishing since day 1.

Zebb’s case

The night he went missing, Zebb (18) left his shift at Walmart and met Owens, a friend of his, in the parking lot. They were going to see a car that Zebb wanted to buy, and surveillance footage from a gas station puts them together at 9:15 pm. Each were driving their own car. According to Owens’ testimony, on their way over there Zebb suddenly pulled over and told him he’d received a page. After talking to the caller in a payphone, he looked frantic and said he had to leave. Before he left, he accidentally rear ended Owens’ car. That was the last time anyone heard of him.

Now here are the weird things that followed:

- Owens was later treated in a hospital for a head injury and fractured ribs. He claimed it was from a car accident he was involved later that night, but there’s no report of such an incident.

- The page Zebb got was from a paternal aunt who didn’t really have much contact with him. The aunt denied making the call, and said that someone had broken into her home at around the time the call was made. She could tell because some things had been moved, but nothing stolen.

- Also that night, the aunt had dinner with a girl named Misty, her mother and her boyfriend. Misty and Zebb had developed a friendship of sorts in the weekends leading to his disappearence, but he’d told friends that Misty’s boyfriend, whom he said was abusive, had been threatening him.

- Two days after Zebb disappeared, someone pretending to be him called his work to let them know he was sick and wouldn’t be going. The coworker knew Zebb and could tell it wasn’t his voice. They traced the call back to the place where Owens worked. He admitted he’d called, but claimed Zebb had asked him to (yeah, right).

- Zebb’s car showed up parked close to his mother’s work. Inside there was a live puppy, a hotel key card that no one’s been able to determine from where it is and a jacket that wasn’t Zebb’s. Also lips had been drawn in the back windshield.

Robert Jason Owens

In March last year, Owens was arrested and charged in the murder of chef Cristie Codd and her husband Joseph. Cristie was five months pregnant. Owens lived close by to them and apparently had been hired to do some repairs in their home. Owens stole from them and was later seen disposing of some of their belongings. He confessed, somewhat, saying he had hit Joseph with his truck and disposed of the bodies. Human remains were found in his home, but they haven’t been publicly identified yet.

This crime obviously drew attention to Zebb’s case, especially after police got a tip from a relative of Owens who said that around the time the teenager went missing, Owens had started digging a fish pond and filling it with concrete. Investigators have been searching the property, but haven’t announced any findings and Owens remains tight lipped about that.

UPDATE

On April 2017, Robert Owens pled guilty to the second degree murder and dismemberment of Cristie Codd, her unborn baby and her husband. He claimed that the murder was accidental, that he ran them over while driving under the influence of medication and instead of reporting the incident he chose to get rid of the bodies. He will spend between 59 and 74 years behind bars without the possibility of a parole, a plea deal he took to avoid facing the death penalty.

There’s still no official link between Owens and Zebb Quinn’s disappearance and authorities have declined to make comments about that investigation. Asked about it, Sean Devereux, one of Owens’ defense lawyers in the Codd case, said: “That matter is not over yet.”

a collab with @zebb of my OC Kat !! 
they did the lines + i did the colours !
honestly working with them was so fun?? ugfgnfmv they’re such a great person too i love you zebb :’)

Please don’t repost or remove the caption! I’d appreciate it!

harlockauxillia30k  asked:

⚔️- A memory about war

Memory Meme

Adamantium’s CIC was dark save for the dim green glow emanating from her tac-comm’s holo display. Janus Zebb sat reclined in his command throne, surrounded by the remaining members of Clan Agulaar’s leadership plus a few strays pulled from what remained of the Iron Hands’ shattered legion. Before them rotated a hologram of the ash world Pride VII. Pride had long been a barracks world for the Twelfth Legion. Janus would see it burn for their betrayal.

He raised a hand, fingers splayed as his installed haptics manipulated the tac-comm’s date output. Information began to scroll across the display in rapid waves of green text detailing atmospherics, terrain disposition, and expected resistance levels. Red triangles appeared in orbit, marking World Eaters ships and red squares on the planet itself identified bombardment targets.

“This is folly.”

All heads turned to look at Espren Coor. He had been a line officer of Clan Haarmek, a lieutenant who had weathered the events of Istvaan and gotten most of the men under his command off world. But the casualties suffered still ate at him, as they ate at the hearts and souls of every Iron Hand present. But Coor’s wounds ran deeper than most. He was unstable, and he was not of Clan Agulaar. He gripped the rim of the tac-comm and looked around the room before finally setting his augmetic eyes on Janus.

“You have concerns, Lieutenant?” Janus asked, keeping his voice calm and level. “You may voice them.”

“My concerns should be plain for all to see,” Coor replied, gesturing to the holo-display. “We are outnumbered and outgunned! There is no way we can hope to reclaim this world. The data is right there. What do you see that I do not?”

“Nothing, brother,” Janus replied. “We all see the same data, the same information. The difference between you and I seems to lie in what we know, and what I know…..” Janus paused and stood, stepping close to the tac-comm so that Pride VII reflected in his eyes. “Is that I have no intention of reclaiming this world.”


Pride burned. Trails of fire marked the sky where drop pods had passed to impact the scorched earth below. The Iron Hands of Battlefleet Agulaar descended upon their unsuspecting foes with all the cold fury and mechanical precision that had won their legion so much fame. Blood ran in rivulets across the cracked ground. Corpses were crushed to a bloody pulp under the treads of tanks and other war machines. World Eaters died.

Janus was mildly surprised at how many of the defenders were aspirants and initiates. But surprise was not enough to stay his hand. They were dressed in ratty robes and gladiatorial armor and while they fought with all the bloodlust and mad ferocity of their fully ascended brethren, they were no match for the force that came for them. It was slaughter.

“Iron Father.”

Janus turned in time to acknowledge Sergeant Yantral’s salute and punch his own breastplate in return. “The charges are set and primed.”

“Pull your men out then,” Janus instructed. “And we will bring this complex down.” Yantral nodded and moved off to do as bidden. Clan Agulaar began a systematic retreat out of the colosseum and back into the ash wastes. Resistance had waned to almost nothing. What few World Eaters remaining threw themselves onto the blades of the Iron Hands with reckless abandon, seeming to favor death than to be found wanting in the eyes of their new patron god. Clan Agulaar was only all too willing to indulge them.


Janus stood atop an ash dune, his power axe planted firmly in the loose scree as he regarded the scene below. Fire burned in the gutted wrecks of tanks and APCs, red and bronze hulls slowly turning black under the heat. Buildings lay reduced to ash and cinders, once mighty barracks halls and training compounds brought down by shot, shell, and iron hand. All save one.

“Iron Father.” Brother Castuun plodded up to Janus’ side, his terminator armor marking him one of the few Morlocks to have made it off Istvaan. He offered Janus the detonator.

The Iron Father took it and regarded it for a moment. It was small, black, and rectangular, and it fit neatly in the palm of his hand. Slowly, his gaze shifted upward to the colosseum. The final building. Janus flicked the safety catch off and pressed the trigger.

There was a heartbeat’s pause before the first set of bombs went off. The lower levels of the colosseum disappeared in a blinding white flash before a rising dust cloud obscured the handiwork. Five second later and the second set of bombs went off, and then the third and the fourth until the colosseum collapsed inward on itself with a thunderous roar.

Dust hung in the air for hours afterwards, kept afloat by rising air currents and a simple refusal to settle. It remained visible even as the Iron Hands left Pride VII and returned to their fleet overhead.

 It remained visible long after the last vessel of Battlefleet Agulaar had jumped to warp.

10

Q&A Spotlight with Isaac McKay-Randozzi

We have been following the gritty black and white photographs by picture taker Isaac McKay-Randozzi, since we caught sight of his works over the years from his coverage of the SF art scene as a contributor to site Fecalface.com in 2000.  He has a knack to capture not only amazing art and skateboarding photographs, but also that of the urban landscapes– from streets, alleys, to whatever truth is unfolding. His passion for camera and film, form and light, movement and human emotion has been his passion to be shared and enjoyed by both art and skateboarding folks alike. 

After a chat on the phone, we caught up with Isaac to see how he got started in photography, what his first camera was, shooting subjects, and how this interest became his passion that is now an integral part of his life and livelihood today.   Enjoy our latest Q&A below!!! 

Photographs courtesy of Isaac McKay-Randozzi | Portrait by Zebb Bruser

Keep reading

asklotarasarrin  asked:

💡- A memory that comes with an object or keepsake they have

Memory Meme

The medallion had been welded into the design of his sarcophagus when he was first interred. It was a circular plate of silver about a quarter inch thick and six inches in diameter. It was embossed with a blacksmith’s hammer flanked by mirrored lightning bolts and surrounded by a square-tooth cog. Though he could no longer physically see it, he remembered precisely when he had first encountered it….

“You cannot be serious.” Janus Zebb looked from the medallion in his hand to the assembled Clan Fathers around him. Their faces, those that were not hidden by their helms, were a mixture of stoic masks and quiet approval. But no face was as pleased as that of Ferrus Manus. Janus turned the medallion over in his hand. It was finely crafted, and fit perfectly in the inset on his gorget. “You cannot be serious,” he repeated.

“Perfectly,” Manus said, his voice a loud boom around the Anvilarium. “Clan Agulaar needs new leadership. You were the unanimous choice given your service record and level head.”

Janus still couldn’t comprehend the notion that he was being given command of an entire Clan. He was an Iron Father, used to offering physical and spiritual advice to men and he prided himself on his martial intelligence but there were others who far outclassed him as a general. Baask was more senior. Enderlyl had more victories. Turaga had more field experience. “Why?” Januse asked, finally finding his voice and the courage to look his Primarch in the eye.

“Because you are intelligent, calm, level-headed, and care for the men under your command,” Manus replied without hesitation. “Baask has, ironically, too cold of a heart. Enderlyl will kill his own men if it means victory. Turaga is an excellent line officer but lacks the vision needed for field command.”

Janus blinked. It was as if his Primarch had read his very thoughts. Ferrus Manus just smiled and slapped Janus on the shoulder. “You will do just fine, Janus. Just fine.”

“Thank you, sire.”

harlockauxillia30k  asked:

💤 [knocked out, like most of the company, after an enemy assault which you came to halt and reverse. 30k]

The staccato sound of gunfire echoed down the narrow streets, punctuated by inhuman shrieks and screams. Alien bodies littered the rubble, their lithe bodies betrayed by the black body armor their thought would protect them. The Iron Hands of Clan Agulaar advanced with mechanical precision. Fields of fire shifted to accommodate the changing landscape as they progressed, targeting information was relayed to the big guns in the back, and gun-cam footage was transmitted to the fleet overhead for study.

Janus Zebb stepped through the remains of a low retaining wall and into the remains of what had once been an Imperial firebase. He tracked his bolter back and forth as his optical implant scanned for signs of life and hostility. Satisfied that there was none of the latter evident, Janus called a halt to attend to the former. There were a number of bodies strewn across the dirty cobblestone bearing the insignia of the Solar Auxillia. Some were plainly dead. The status of others was not as readily apparent. The Iron Hands began to inspect for those they could save.