text:
One of these days, that kiss was going to stop haunting him.
Cryptid’s self-assigned territory stretched across the south bank of the Ohio River in Pittsburgh, so sometimes, his patrols took him into Elliot. Given recent circumstances he felt like he should be avoiding Elliot, but unfortunately the neighborhood was home to one of the Jackals’ biggest bases of operations. Obviously, a lone vigilante no matter how feared shouldn’t try to take on a whole den of enemies like that at once – fear alone couldn’t protect you from guns.
In coming here, Cryptid hoped that spending time in territory this full of prey would cure him of his distraction. The scents, the sounds, the activities and bodies, might do what his usual stomping grounds couldn’t, and help him forget.
Help him forget her.
Samantha Walsh had kissed him, and she’d meant it. His gut wouldn’t let him forget that she had meant it. She’d signed his memory with her touch – her touch, fingers curled in his hair, and her lips fierce against his, her kiss tasting of her, the same her he had smelled in the blood of her car, something more innate than the shampoo or lotion she used. Well, her, and teriyaki chicken, which only inscribed her more clearly in his memory in a way he was afraid to think about.
She’d been on his mind all that afternoon, keeping the same stupid grin he’d worn as he’d watched her go on his face until he locked up and closed. He’d faded to a smile when he got back to his apartment, but each time that kiss to mind the grin leapt back out. He still burned from her heat, the wonderful kind of burn that came from stepping out into the sun in the middle of summer, the kind that made him forget that he’d ever been cold. And now he couldn’t get rid of her. He shouldn’t let her do this to him – they’d never see each other again, they’d both agreed. She didn’t love him, couldn’t love the real him, although she didn’t know it; and he couldn’t love her, because he couldn’t stop being what he was for her. They’d met once, spent a day together, and kissed at the end.
And kissed at the end. A kiss full of floral scents and vanila and the warm smells of autumn and rage.
Hold on. He stopped with a roll on the next rooftop, and frowned. Cinnamon and jasmine and vanilla and rage. That wasn’t part of the kiss. It’d borne the heat that came with her anger, and none of the smells. For the first time in days, his mind was suddenly and clearly on the present as it wafted past him again.
He turned his face up to the wind, and it was warmer than it should’ve been, even for this time of year. With a deep breath, he found it again: the smell of her, of absolute anger, of sweat, of blood and charred meat. If he hadn’t been distracted like a lovesick highschooler, he might’ve noticed it earlier. He followed the direction of the wind in his mind, tracked it as the crow flew down a few blocks to…
Oh. Oh no. Sam – whatever her alias was, she was still Sam – hadn’t been around long enough to scout out the Jackal den in the area. She didn’t seem to be the type to rush in.
He hesitated. No, that kick of rage, the smile and flirting, the straightforward honesty? She was exactly the type to rush in. Whatever was happening inside him, she needed to be sorted from her to ally, nothing more, because if she was more and he lost his train of thought he’d be no help at all. He took a deep breath, and then started to move in the right direction, long practice helping him where formal training was nonexistent to pick up the pace. The trip would help him clear his head at least, give the predator inside him a real focus for the first time in a listless week.
One of these days, that kiss was going to stop haunting him. Today was not that day, but he could make himself forget about it long enough to save her life.
Phoenix had fucked up, to put it in as clear words as possible. It was supposed to be simple, just a small den of drug-dealing gangsters she had been tracking the last few days. She had followed them across town several times, watching them as they brought their supplies from the warehouses along the docks. She had watched their den, watching who came and went through the door. She had counted seven in all, mostly armed with handguns, with one or two heavier arms.
She could have handled that. That wouldn’t have been a big deal for her at all. Phoenix knew her limits and it was about ten lightly armed men, or six heavily armed men. That’s how many she could reasonably take down, quick enough that they rarely had time to open fire. And if they did open fire, she was quick enough to dance around their fire, Skirting it just enough to not be hit.
Maybe if she hadn’t still been thinking about him she would have scoped the place out a little more and would have noticed some other factors at play. Maybe she would have looked at the other side of the damn building. But no, her brain had to still be replaying that afternoon with Todd god damn Fowler. The man her brain was screaming at her to go see again. The reason she was throwing herself into her work so hard. The reason that despite the full return of her anger, the core of it seemed to remain that summery burn.
Todd god damn Fowler was just on her mind. And now she was paying the price for that.
She had gone in the way she normally did– strolling through the front door, twirling her hammer, a quip on her lips. Until she had counted almost fifteen men, easily, and her smile became a sharp grin. With her still healing ribs, this was… not great.
She took out three of them before the rest had a chance to react, but then they started opening fire on her. Or tried to anyway. She managed to dance through most of it until she was in their midst, where they didn’t shoot or dare to hit each other by accident.
Her anger then was mostly at herself for being so stupid. Of course, there was another door. And as she danced through them, never staying still long enough to take anything other than a punch, she heard more men pouring in from that newly discovered other door. Well, that wasn’t good at all. None of this was good. Fifteen she might have been able to handle on a good day, but this was a bad day, and there were easily two dozen of them now. She wouldn’t be able to dance around out of their reach for too much longer, not without a good distraction. Even as her feet connected with people, even as her hands found purchase on the floor, on their shoulders, and even as her hammer connected multiple times, she was quickly being overrun.
With minimal other options, she started offputting as much heat as she could in a quick burst, the temperature around her quickly reaching one hundred and fifty degrees. Some of the men reaching for her started withdrawing, shaking out their hands and groaning at the burns she had given them. She didn’t dare crank the heat up further, even as it became clear that she was very much outnumbered, even by her standards.
There were too many guns trained on her, too many hands trying to land blows on her, and despite her enhanced endurance and her barre training, Phoenix could feel the adrenaline making her legs shake.
Cryptid had never been able to get a good shot at this place, even to slip in for the layout. There’d been too many guards just out front. Hitting even one of those would’ve been like kicking an anthill – if every ant had an uzi. He’d been trying to figure out how to wiggle his way into the foxhole for weeks now, every plan coming up with nothing novel enough to actually help him.
It’d never crossed his mind to come in the front door. But there it was – wide open, the air outside shimmering with heat like an open oven. And not a single guard in sight. Based on the sound of gunfire, they were all inside. That was a bad thing, but a good indicator Sam was alive in there. He breathed, felt the warmth starting to eddy in the loading area outside the front of the warehouse, caught the rage in her body, and let that calm him. He landed on the ground below in almost absolute silence. Not because he thought anyone might detect him, but just out of habit. The threat was inside, after all.
His tall, deliberately ragged figure appeared in the doorway, cast in odd shadows as the heat bent the light around him in waves. This was way warmer than the kiss at Vik’s – and then he realized why she might turn up the heat, surrounded as she was by armored and armed guys. Somewhere in the twenties, with the door to the back bay still open to let more in if possible.
The room was big, despite all the noise, and after his first glance, Cryptid tilted his head to an odd angle, fingers curling so that his claws were fully visible.
“You guys really just let anyone in these days, huh?”
He gave it a second to settle, for someone to notice, before he started to move. He relied on his above-average speed and strength to give him the burst he needed to cross to the first gunman, the farthest from Sam and most likely to hit at his range. One jab to the back of the knee, a place most people could protect if they knew what was going on but would work well to overbalance him, as Cryptid moved on before he even realized what had happened.
Then, he imagined, he’d have some gunfire of his own to worry about.
“You guys really just let anyone in these days, huh?”
If Phoenix hadn’t been focused on spinning and weaving between the guards, she might have looked to see who had spoken. Some of the men she was fighting had begun to turn away from her. And pull away, raising their guns, and training them on something that Phoenix couldn’t quite see, but caught just enough glimpses of to be moderately relieved. It was another person, a blur of blacks and a streak of white, moving as fast as her
They had joined the fray and some of the heat on her lightened up. Now she could work again. She readjusted her grip on the hammer, and she stopped spinning through their ranks. Her hood had fallen back at some point, and her heavily banded hair fell loose. She doubted that would matter much, even if it was a very easily identifiable color.
Phoenix started to weave through them again, this time with her hammer moving as well. She aimed for kneecaps– her preferred method of unbalancing and crippling opponents– and when she couldn’t reach a knee, she spun and swung her hammer up and into their jaws. She could feel the give as she broke the first one she did that to. She had four more down, scrambling to get back up, in a few seconds.
All in all, the other person, a man by the sound of the voice, had probably just saved her life. She wouldn’t have been able to turn the tide by herself, not so late in, and she wouldn’t have been able to fly out without getting riddled with bullets. Phoenix chanced a real glance over at the man, and she saw… well, she guessed that she had worn her getup at one point. The Batman look was definitely working for whoever this guy was. It was more intimidating than her black leather pants, leather jacket, and hoodie, that was for sure. That mask especially was next-level horror movie shit.
Was that what he was going for? Horror movie? Well, he was doing a good job at it. He looked like a slasher from a B-rate movie. In her harsh voice, the one that she used when she dropped all pretenses, she called out, “Oh, I wasn’t aware this was a membership-only club. My bad, guys, really, I couldn’t have known any better.”
He caught sight of her when she finally stopped moving. The curls were unmistakable, the same blaze of orange that had lit up Vik’s, loose and flowing with the rest of her in deadly dance. Like him, she wore leather; unlike him, she wore it well, emphasizing the way she moved, comfortable in it like a second skin.
The temperature cooled off as some of the fire shifted to the Cryptid and missed. Someone recognized him, shouted his name, and while that gave him a lovely little flutter of pride it also made him a bigger target. Fear to the point of urban legend was useful like that.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Leo’s bouncer absolutely sucks.” He caught the back of one guy’s leg with a hard downward kick that ended in a nasty pop, while turning and slashing open the wrist of someone else who’d stupidly started to reload. Then he dodged back out of a line of semi-automatic fire, a step ahead of the guy’s aiming speed, and found himself within speaking-and-not-shouting distance of her. He turned his head to watch again, taking on the tone of casual conversation despite the situation. If he didn’t think about how fucked they might be if any of these guys developed a braincell, or if the guys in the next room flooded all at once, he could actually start to enjoy this part.
“So, what brings a gal like you to a joint like this?” The dark eyes glittered as he caught her golden ones, then broke off as he turned to the next target, who’d thought he was sly and tried to catch Cryptid with a switchblade. “Not that I’m not enjoying the change in scenery.”
She heard his name called out. Cryptid. That definitely had the energy of the man she was now fighting alongside. He moved in a way that was more instinctive than trained, and while she admired that, it also left her feeling a little uncertain.
Phoenix’s grin under her mask lifted to be a little sharper as he caught her eyes. Whoever he was behind the mask, he had some of the darkest eyes she had ever seen on a person. They were the exact opposite of the eyes that she wanted to see, but she would take whatever eyes got her out of danger right then. She didn’t really know why she had expected a different pair of eyes under that mask, but she needed to stop thinking about that right the fuck now or she was going to get hurt.
Wrong eyes, wrong voice. She could save that distraction for later.
“A gal like me, huh? Well, I was just out for a stroll, saw an open door, thought I might as well come inside.” Her voice took on a slightly teasing tone as she decided to play along. She turned to find a gun right in her face, the wielder cocking it back. She lept, creating a small vortex to carry her as she flipped through the air, and then dropped down behind him, spinning and smacking her hammer into the side of his head. She felt more than heard a crack, but a fracture wouldn’t kill him.
“What about you, tall, dark, and handsome? Do you come here often? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around these parts.” As subtle a way of asking if she was in his patrol zone as she could possibly ask. If someone normally patrolled this area, then she wouldn’t worry about it as much and would stick to the wide strip she had started to carve out. She kept dancing her way around the men, though now she was paying a little more attention to the stranger.
Cryptid understood the code as it was given, while he disarmed Switchblade and kicked him back with more force than balance. Didn’t seem to be too many guards, so I took an apparent opportunity. As he regained his footing enough to dance aside from another spray of bullets, he interpreted the rest, too.
He definitely heard the crack of the skull as she took down her next target, and his head turned to see the man collapse. The wound trickled blood, so he probably wasn’t dead. Bleeding stops when the heart does, he knew from experience.
Or when gravity couldn’t pull any more out of a gaping hole. But usually death did most of that job.
He kicked the next nearest gunman’s leg so hard it went sideways, and punched the one after in the face using the bar of his bagh nakh. He always had to turn his wrist in an odd direction to do that, but he’d gotten used to that.
“Oh, I’m something of a barhopper, depends on how I’m feeling. I keep to the Southside and the Strip.” He wandered different areas, but his territory included the south bank and the warehouse districts, although that last part might be less clear given she’d only been here a month. “I’m a bit of a VIP with the Jackals, though. Hang out at Leo’s clubs a lot.”
As if the sudden focus shift hadn’t told her that, or the way his name was being echoed in other parts of the warehouse. It sounded like the start of an evacuation, which was both a good thing, and a bad thing. A good thing because it meant less people. A bad thing because he knew for a fact Leo was going to be pissed, and he had too much going on without that kind of heat.
Other kinds of heat, though… He glanced back at her, continuing in a flow that was inherently different from his jerk and jab.
“You must be new in town if you haven’t heard. I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Well, surprised I haven’t seen around before. Seems we like to frequent a few of the same areas.”I have been hitting the warehouse district on the southern bank..
She swung her hammer for the back of one of the thug’s knees as she rolled under his grasp, definitely hearing the crack as the man went down, grasping his knee and screaming. She popped back up and her hammer kept moving, catching another of the still-standing men right in the shoulder. That strike made a vicious and loud crack, and she winced a little. That hadn’t been intentional, and she realized she was moving just a little too fast, her speed and strength kicking in as she danced around.
She ended up close to the stranger, however, and she flashed a grin, her long ponytail swaying as she leaned in a little, despite keeping her voice at the same level, just loud enough to be heard over the screaming around them. “Phoenix, at your service. I’m definitely new to town. Haven’t heard your name before today, sad to say.”
Even though Todd remained on her mind, she said it with a suggestive kind of grin that implied she was interested in getting to hear his name again. The grin quickly fell through as a bullet rang out. It came from the direction she hadn’t been looking, so she quickly threw up a thermal wall, creating a current that would slow down the bullet and diminish the impact. It hit her square in the chest, and her suit dispersed the impact down her chest. She felt it in her bruised side, but thankfully her ribs had healed by then, so it didn’t bring her down or make her distracted.
She threw the hammer right at the man’s chest before he could fire again and angrily stalked over to pick it up as the man was knocked backward to the ground. Anger radiated off her as she picked up the handle, giving a swift kick to the side of the man’s head, just enough to knock him out. “I’m trying to have a conversation here! Very inconsiderate.”
Phoenix. That fit her, a bird of prey that burned bright and fast, curls trailing behind her like feathers in flight.
He heard another, clearer crunch of bone, and he risked another glance at the sound to see her brilliant smile. He hadn’t really met another vigilante who was so willing to put people in a cast since he and Arlo were on patrol together, back in Billings. Arlo was always careful not to do anything lethal, but his hands could fracture concrete and bend metal. Broken bones were inevitable. And that had actually helped Todd tone down, too – the earliest towns the Cryptid hit left bodies, found and otherwise. Arlo’s strict non-lethal policy had rubbed off on him, although it had taken some time and a lot of long conversations.
A sharp pain in his right arm brought his head right back out of the clouds. The bullet had pierced the jacket, but the deceptive padding kept it from putting the arm out of the game completely – just grazed, painful but not permanent. His masked face snapped toward the offending marksman, and he moved. He caught one of the men he passed in the ribs with an elbow, and another that tried to cut in front of him with a rake of claws against his unprotected face.
“Of course, where’s my manners?” His voice had a little growl to the end as he slammed the metal bar into the jaw of the man who’d shot him with his good arm, and took his ankle out with a sharp kick. Then, returning to something smoother, “The Cryptid. I am at your service.”
Cryptid then shook out the bad arm, where the bleeding had already stopped. It burned still, but that was just mending nerves. There wasn’t any blood on the sleeve, just the hole in the fabric. As usual, he’d just have to go find the bullet when this was done – the DEA would be in here tomorrow, if everything kept going the way it was going, and it wouldn’t do to leave DNA evidence anywhere.
The room was almost cleared, and nobody else had come in from the other side of the warehouse once Cryptid showed. He could hear a few of Leo’s white vans already running, and imagined the rest of the available bodies were working to get as much merchandise out as possible. He wondered if someone had already called Leo, or if this would be a pleasant surprise for him to wake up to tomorrow morning.
They’d have to let them go, of course. Even Todd’s usual methods wouldn’t take care of a whole fleet of vans, and they’d done enough damage just by clearing the space out. Pushing their luck now would be rough.
“You have any plans after this, gorgeous? Maybe we can go someplace a little more private and get to know each other better.”We should communicate about our routes and goals after this, and I think we should leave as soon as we’re done here.
Phoenix looked around and saw that if anyone was standing, they were fleeing. There were more than several bodies on the ground, and as she looked around, some of them were bleeding, but for the most part, they all looked intact. She walked over to the man whose skull she had fractured and checked him over. He was bleeding, but when she lifted his eyelids and looked at his eyes, there were no alarming abnormalities. She nodded at that while she listened to the man talk.
With a bit of a pep in her step, Phoenix approached the Cryptid, hammer held between her hands and behind her head, braced against the back of her neck. She gave him a neutral once over before giving an almost wicked, almost feral grin and saying, “The Cryptid, you say? I think you’ve got yourself a date, tall, dark, and terrible. Shall we go for a walk?”
I’m on the same page– let’s get out of here. She started casually strolling toward the front door, leaving behind her a heat trail. It dissipated a few steps behind her into a warm haze, but walking right behind her was like being in a boiler room. Her anger had disappeared, or at least been reduced to a manageable level. Nothing to cool your jets quite like an all-out brawler, was there?
As she stepped out into the much cooler almost autumn air, she turned to look at the Cryptid. His curly dark hair really was making her think of Todd, despite the voice and eyes. She couldn’t quite shake it. Even as they had spoken in code, she had picked up things, things about the way he spoke, but she brushed it off. She had all but told Todd she was a vigilante, and if he had been, he likely would have returned the favor. Although, maybe he wouldn’t have. He seemed like the kind of guy who would be hard to really crack.
“You ever fly before, handsome?” She offered her hand out to him, a small vortex already kicking up under her, picking up leaves and dust and kicking it away from her boots.
As the fighting finally died out, Cryptid had a chance to really assess the carnage they’d caused between them. The part of him that was a carnivore picked out the weakest among the injured, those who stank the most of blood and fear. But there weren’t any casualties. And that was a win.
Intent on keeping it that way, he turned toward Sam – toward Phoenix. The violence clung to her face and body language, undeterred by the fact that the fight was over. His own violence drained out, and he relaxed again, conserving his energy for later use as the vans started to pull away. Her warmth helped him to do so, though he didn’t bask in it the way he’d allowed himself to at Vik’s. They were still on enemy territory. No way would he let his guard down, even if he could hear the Jackals leaving.
“I’ll be right behind you, beautiful.” Cryptid paused beside one of the unconscious gang members, patted his pockets, and found his phone. He pulled up the emergency line, and held it up to his ear, warping his vocal chords until the operator picked up.
He gave the address in a deep, rich voice – Arlo’s voice, although the operator didn’t know that, and neither would Phoenix if she was listening. Police and Ambulance. Twenty or more injured.
He hung up before the nice woman on the other end could ask too many questions, dropped the phone back on the unconscious Jackal, and took off after Phoenix at a casual lope, collecting up the bullet with his blood from the dent it had left in the concrete as he passed.
The cool air met him, pulled on his hair, tugged at his coat, as it was displaced by the warmth she couldn’t seem to help. He ran his fingers and the claws of one hand to push the curls back with the casual caution that came from long experience. It left blood behind, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t wash away. The bullet was safely deposited in his pocket as she asked her question.
He could hear the air moving under her feet, and knew that there was more than just suggestion in her question. He tilted his head, but there was a smile in his voice as he gently placed his hand in hers, careful not to cut her fingers with his claws.
“Can’t say that I have. Why, do you plan to sweep me off my feet?”
Phoenix turned her hand slightly and tightly gripped his wrist, pulling him a little closer. She grinned again, all teeth, but this time in a less feral and more joyous way. “Well, if you’re going to let me.”
She spun her vortex wider until it encompassed both of them. She kept it tight but also left a deliberate pressurized void around the man's own body, that way he wouldn’t get burned by what was about to happen. She kicked the heat up high, and they had lift off. She rose in the air, taking him with her. She held on tight to his wrist, leaving hers open in a trusting way for his own grip. She wasn’t sure why she was choosing to give him that trust, but maybe it really was that he just reminded her of Todd.
Now that they weren’t facing imminent possible death, she could allow herself to think about Todd again. God, that made her heart do a little flutter and she was only slightly not a fan of it. The longer she looked at the man who she was flying with, the more she just saw Todd. God, was she really that childish?
Her ponytail flew in messy curls behind her as she took them high enough in the sky to see the city, but not high enough to suffocate either of them. She kept a pressure around them via her vortex that kept the air pressure from changing as well. This was, in her opinion, the only way to fly. She couldn’t help the grin on her face and the sudden whooping sound she made as they flew through the air. Then she turned to look at him as they closed in on Mt Washington. With as big a grin as ever, she took tight hold of his wrist and said, “Hold on tight, handsome!”
Then she began their descent. Sharply. They plummeted toward the ground in a controlled arc, and when they finally arrived at the tallest building in the area, she pulled them up, setting them down on the roof. She bounced on her feet a few times to stop, skipping out of the vortex as it died. This meant they were halfway across the building, standing almost dead center. She wove her fingers through her ponytail, happy to see the tie hadn’t snapped, and then turned to look at Cryptid.
“I don’t think anyone could have followed us from that. What do you say, big guy, should we talk now?” The words slipped out of her mouth, and she almost frowned. She had never called anyone but Todd that before. Twice in a week was… odd.
Stepping into that vortex was just like the kiss all over again. It was all warmth, all fire, all her. Although now, instead of mixing with the smell of their lunch, it instead carried with it the scents of blood, of violence, and the last lingering traces of her anger. Accented by the flowers and the fall scents, and he felt like he was experiencing her for the first time, whole and free.
And what would she find in him in return? Nothing, if he could help it, except the unexpected warmth in eyes meant to resemble a monster’s. Maybe something too careful for a pure predator in the way his hand held her wrist, where a misplaced twitch could tear it open. But he maintained his self-control with the same ease he always did, and he just enjoyed the view as they went. The view down, of course, down at Pittsburgh’s lights, and its life.
And over at her, which she’d absolutely see when she told him to hold on tight. The pressure of his fingers increased in response to her words, and he let her take him down.
He mimicked her landing as best he could, although her several skids turned into one awkward leap for him that ended with bent knees and a low chuckle. The fall wind cut into him, but for once, he couldn’t feel the cold of hunger coming with it. Maybe that was the late, if disastrous, meal that was still far from wearing off. Maybe it was just… her.
Who hadn’t ever wanted to see him again. Who, he reminded himself, he couldn’t fall in love with. She deserved better than what he was, what she hadn’t seen in him.
He ran both hands through his hair, this time, and was pleasantly surprised to find the bagh nakh still radiating heat. He let his hands rest there for a second, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Then he turned back to her, lowering his arms, and trying to hide the smile in his eyes as he went about removing the knives and slipping them into his pocket.
“I think this is private enough,” he agreed, looking around. “No cameras, no prying ears. Just you, me, and a discussion of why on earth you thought it’d be a good idea to jump one of Leo Vasquez’s biggest warehouses by yourself on a weekend.”
He didn’t sound disappointed in her, or angry. He sounded impressed. She’d been holding her own when he’d showed up; if he’d just drawn fire, she could’ve actually taken out the whole place herself, he was sure.
Phoenix couldn’t help the cheeky grin that crossed her face. First, she had caught him looking at her as they flew, and now he sounded impressed with her. For a moment she seemed to debate something, and then she touched the edge of her mask while she spoke. “For one, I didn’t know it was a, what did you call them before? The Jackals? I didn’t know it was theirs. I just knew that some wannabe gangsters kept hulling up there.”
Her hands left her mask, and she took a few unassuming steps toward the man, her hand taking the wristband of her handle off. She bent down and set it on the ground. She left it handle up, so if anything happened, she could easily roll back and grab it. If she even needed it. The guy looked like he might weigh as much as her. She took a few more steps toward him, almost like she was afraid of startling him.
“Two, I knew I could take on… maybe eleven or twelve guys, and of the guys I saw consistently go through the front door? Ten max. The rest were uh, what would you call it? A bonus? I definitely needed someone to redirect their fire, though, so thank you for showing up when you did.” She got just close enough to lean forward, her hands tucked into the pockets of her black leather jacket, and she grinned, something fierce and wild.
“Three, it’s the weekend. Clearly, you had nothing better to do either. Now, handsome, why don’t you go ahead and throw a punch at me real quick?” Sam took her hands out of her pockets and gestured for him to give it his best shot. There was still an undercurrent of flirting to her words, but the wolfish grin on her face said she was serious.
“Come on, throw a punch. I promise no matter how strong you are, you’re not going to hurt me. I’m very sturdy.” The wind whipped past, and her long hair was swept up in the current, and it ruffled her hoodie and jacket, emphasizing how ready to move she looked.
Cryptid watched her come toward him, curious about the difference between her face and her body language. The wild freedom was there in her eyes, in her smile. And yet there was a caution in her steps, not the caution of a mouse approaching a cat – but a cat approaching a mouse. And yet he didn’t feel threatened. That was different, too. She was going to surprise him, somehow.
“Well, I can certainly think of worse ways to spend the weekend.”
She asked him to hit her. He trusted her judgment, because she’d just seen him fight. His right arm hurt, but that was just a dull throb by now, and it hadn’t affected him in the middle of a fight. So he shrugged, loosening his shoulders, and shifted into a basic boxing stance, like Arlo had taught him a lifetime ago.
He didn’t normally bother with posture, but he felt like whatever she was doing, it was going to be important. It’d been a long time since he’d actually practiced – he was used to throwing punches in the heat of things, and letting them land wherever. Right hand up at the top of his chest to protect the face – even if the mask was there for that – right hand a little behind, to join in if needed. His elbows stayed tucked, his upper body tight. He actually had to push down the urge to bounce, to start moving.
He might’ve tried to forget the late nights in Arlo’s home dojo, but his muscles remembered.
He waited a few seconds, taking her in. This time there wasn’t time for golden eyes and orange curls, this time he was watching posture, watching position. Once satisfied, he gave it another second, then went through the same motions his legs and arms remembered: slip forward, open up, lash out, pull back in.
He remembered the first time Arlo had taught him to throw that jab. It was after they knew each other’s names, after they knew each other’s identities. Cryptid had gotten his jaw broken by a particularly nasty bruiser, and while it had reset just fine, the Phantom Ox had watched both the hit that landed, and the animal fury that followed. Todd was still better with the berserker rage tactic, but after that he’d learned a few basic boxing hits and blocks to keep himself from taking more hits than he needed to.
Over the years, without real practice, his posture wasn’t up to Arlo’s standards, but he was just as quick and perceptive as ever. And he took her word that she could take it if it landed, didn’t do the gentlemanly thing and whiff on purpose. Whatever she was doing, he rolled with it.
Oh, this poor man. It was exactly what Phoenix thought. His form was shit!
She watched him get himself into position, watched him line up his punch. It was clear he hadn’t practiced a punch in some time, and because of that, he was much slower than he should have been when he struck. Which was what gave Phoenix enough time to calmly grab his wrist, and the front of his jacket. She used his own force against him, taking the momentum of the strike and bringing him up and over her shoulder.
As he went, she made eye contact, this time with a fully feral grin on her face. She kept him going, all the way over, and when he was high in the air, she let go of his jacket. She turned and spun him all the way to the rooftop, slamming him back first into the masonry. She let go of his arm and then knelt next to him, getting really close to his face. In a soft, almost purring voice, she said, “Lesson one. Just because your enemy doesn’t look ready to fight doesn’t mean they aren’t. Always be prepared for a redirect like this one. This is a basic self-defense maneuver. You should always be ready to encounter someone with real fighting experience.”
She offered him a hand, balancing it on her knee in front of him as she continued, “Lesson two. If you’re going to utilize any formal training, you need to practice it frequently. Otherwise, you’re slow and clumsy. And that leaves too many openings, especially for an experienced fighter.”
She looked down at his mask, with its sharp carved teeth, and the dark eyes behind them. Again, they weren’t the right shape or color, but she knew that Todd could shapeshift. Surely it wouldn’t be hard for eyes… She fought the temptation to try and remove his mask. That was a big no-no. You didn’t unmask your fellow vigilantes. So instead, she mumbled quietly, barely audibly, “So strange. You remind me so much of someone I wish I could see again. Too bad he wasn’t interested in that.”
She kept her proffered hand balanced for him to grasp. If he did, she would pull them both to their feet, making sure she used a little extra strength than was necessary, to give him just the slightest taste of how hard she’d be able to throw a punch in exchange.
As she grabbed his wrist, Todd abruptly remembered that Sam Walsh had recently opened a gym that taught self-defense lessons.
Being used to taking hits as they came, he offered little resistance to being pulled through the air, just braced for impact. He oofed softly when he landed, careful about the position of his head to avoid any kind of fracture or concussion. He let his head rest on the ground as she knelt down next to him, so close again that he could almost taste her. He was glad she couldn’t see his smile under the mask’s grin beyond the way it moved his eyes, and he sighed like he hadn’t heard her (admittedly very good) advice when she offered him her hand.
“Give me a second, I’m appreciating the view.”
And he took that second and let himself have what he wouldn’t when he stood back up, when he let her take his hand in hers, something that in a real fight would be a stupid action. He gripped her wrist back again, more comfortable now that he wasn’t keeping the blades of his claws from her skin. He let her pull him up, but held on in return with strength that matched hers, and waited for her to let go first in their silent communication.
Truly silent. Not like her words, so soft that he wouldn’t have heard them had his ears not been primed for such noises, breaths in the night, footsteps a dozen yards away. He looked at her after she said that, really looked. She was beautiful under the autumn moon, the wind this high up tugging at her hood, trying to pull it free. Her golden eyes had such a longing that he couldn’t ignore them the way he wanted to. The way that he knew he should.
“Maybe,” he said, his own voice the same quiet – so that if she didn’t want to hear him, she wouldn’t have to; “maybe he has a good reason, whoever he is.”
Something in Sam’s face changed. She had heard his ever-so-quite words on the wind, heard them said in such a soft voice, and she knew. He didn’t have to tell her. He didn’t have to say anything else. She just knew. She was never wrong about this kind of thing.
Cryptid was Todd. Todd was Cryptid. That was why her rapport with him had been so good up to this point, why she felt at ease around him. Why despite the eyes and the voice change, she had noticed the similarities in his speech, in his movement. And if he was Todd, he likely knew that she was Sam. He had seen her hair, and the mask did nothing to hide her eyes except on camera.
She smiled softly and she leaned in a little too close to softly respond to his statement. “Maybe… just like me, he needs to let someone in. I would… like to be that person, I think. I’d like him to be that person. I think that maybe… he and I are both strong enough to be around each other.”
She looked up then, into the eyes of the mask, the same longing in her eyes as before. She saw in him a longing of his own, but unlike her hopefulness, his was tinged with sadness, a guarded look. If Sam had to guess, he wanted to tell her who he was. For some reason, he wouldn’t. Or maybe it was something much deeper than that. He had said he’d had a friend who did what they did before. Had he also lost a partner? Someone he loved? That would explain a lot.
She knew, and she knew he’d know she knew, the same way he’d known she’d known he’d known about her vigilantism. Did she think he’d come out for her, he wondered? Had she been thinking about – about them, and all their possibilities, the way he had?
Did she think about that kiss?
And just like that, the hope came in, and it would be clear for an instant. The smell of her, rich and heavy and uniquely hers and now missing the pure rage that made her seem whole in the heat of combat. The look in her eyes as she made him promises, without promising anything at all.
But right on its heels was the cold, every memory he’d kept to himself, all the weight that came with daring to think that someone might listen to him. This wasn’t like with Arlo, just a confession of violence. And he’d learned with Summer that he couldn’t hide everything and hope to still be there for her. There was more now, and he was afraid of that.
The fear swept past the guilt in his eyes when the guard started to go down, and he averted them so she wouldn’t see it. Not as clearly, anyway. He hoped not.
Her words rang softly in his ears, and he remembered he was holding her before he could clench his hand into a fist. He let go first, suddenly aware of his own tension under the pressure of everything he was feeling, everything that tied itself in knots in his throat.
“Maybe you should ask him sometime. He might not trust himself. To be that person, that is.”
Or at all. He didn’t look at her as he thought about that. Not at all. He didn’t pull away in body, but he fell back in mind. She’d seen two halves of him, two sides. And that was all she’d see. He wouldn’t let her look deep enough to see the rest. It was too much to let her see, let alone help him carry. There were things he’d never ask of her, especially not now – not here. The novelty was what kept giving him hope. He wouldn’t spoil it by taking the novelty away, not so soon.
The disappointment she felt when The hope in his eyes became something else, and then became fear– that was almost palpable in the air. This almost felt like a challenge to Phoenix– no, to Sam. One of them was going to have to admit it first, and she swallowed around the knots in her throat. She wanted his friendship. She wanted him to be that person she could rely on, that she could turn to and have be there.
She wanted him to be the one who wouldn’t die on her. After what she had seen him do back at the Jackals’ den, she felt certain, this was why he had clicked into place in her mind.
She also knew she wanted to rip the mask off him and kiss him again. And she was struggling with that feeling. Maybe she had gotten some wire in her brain mixed up when it came to him. Or maybe… maybe he was meant to be her new Alice? The thought made her blood run warm, and she let it out in a burst of heat.
Fine, if he was going to be this way, then she would be the first one to break it. She would be the first one to admit to what they both knew. If this was how it was going to play out, she’d be the one who did it. She shut her eyes tight, and then opened them again, determination in them so deep and fierce that one could drown in it and never reach the bottom.
Sam was all or nothing.
So she raised a steady hand and she caught the mask in her hand. She curled her fingers around it for the briefest second, until she found his face underneath it, and straightened him out, forcing him to look at her. Her heart started beating hard in her chest as she searched his eyes, looking for something beyond the fear. Then she let her hand soften.
No, that left too much room for him to pretend he didn’t understand. She curled her hand up into his hair and pulled, pulling him down so their faces were closer. The look in her eyes softened back into hope. Back into longing, for both him, what he could be, and what they could be. She thought again about crossed wires. She could settle for friendship if she had to. She could settle for camaraderie. Whatever he needed this to be, she would let it be.
Maybe he hadn’t thought about that kiss every waking second for the last four days.
Maybe he didn’t want it so bad he could feel it in his bones.
Maybe he didn’t want her around at all, and that was why he was edging around the question.
The thought had crossed her mind, of course, of whether he wanted her, too, in any way, shape, or form. If he wanted her as a friend, one who could help him out when he needed it. If he wanted her as a partner, who could have his back.
If maybe he wanted her as something more.
Right then, she would be whatever Todd god damn Fowler needed.
So she looked back up at him and in a firm, but gentle and soft voice, one that left no room for any misinterpretation, she said, “Will you trust yourself, Todd?”
This was a risk. She knew it was a risk. She could be reading far too much into this, but god be damned if she wasn’t so sure that it hurt. This was Todd Fowler. Cryptid was Todd Fowler. This man in front of her was the blue eyed, cheekbone having, tall guy she had kissed just a few days prior.


text:
May 22, 2013
Berni admits killing of key Once witness 'suspicious'
Security Secretary Sergio Berni admitted today that the sudden murder of Leonardo Andrada, a key witness in the Once rail tragedy investigation, was “suspicious.”
“A full expansion of the investigation needs to take place in order for a clear answer to be found,” the government official said today in talks with local radio station La Red.
“It is completely suspicious. The Judiciary needs to advance in its investigation and make conclusions on the case,” he added.
Andrada, 53, who drove the train part way to Once station the day of the accident that caused 51 deaths on February 22 last year, was brutally murdered last Friday after being shot four times in the back at a bus stop in Ituzaingó.
The attackers stole his mobile phone in the incident, but did not take any of his other belongings, which included a rucksack and over $1,200 pesos in cash in his pockets.

domain: news


text:
Geva play based on Tuskegee airman's love letters
Seventy years ago, Nora Cole's aunt wrote a series of love letters back and forth with a Tuskegee airman who would later become her husband.
Today, Cole, a veteran performing artist, has written a play about those letters that will have its world premiere at Geva Theatre Center this month.
Katherine's Colored Lieutenant, written by Cole to conclude her two-year tenure as Geva's TCG/Fox Foundation Resident Actor Fellow, is a story unlike any other.
"You can't make this stuff up," said director David Schweizer. "It's a remarkable story. Nora stays quite true to the letters and really paints a portrait of how things were moving sociologically at that time in history."
The love letters — about 50 of them — were written between Robert Stanley Lawery and his fiancée, Katherine Louise Cole, from 1941 to 1945.
Lawery was a high-school English teacher and counselor in Louisville, Kentucky, working on his Ph.D. in philosophy at Indiana University at the time he was drafted and placed with the Tuskegee Airmen, the first African-American military aviators, and their support crews, in the U.S. Armed Forces.
Katherine Louise Cole was a school teacher from Louisville.
"The letters between them were so extraordinary because they were so eloquently written from an educated black man's point of view being in the segregated military of World War II," Nora Cole said. "In these letters is a life story I could and did tell."
In addition to writing Katherine's Colored Lieutenant, Cole performs in it as herself and her aunt Katherine, a woman she spent much time with growing up in Louisville. Katherine died seven years ago. Robert Lawery is also deceased.
"Katherine was very reserved," said Nora Cole, remembering her aunt's personality. "She was a stickler for manners, protocol and being very dutiful in whatever she did."
Michael Early, who is making his Geva Theatre Center debut, plays Lawery in this two-person, two-act play that Cole spent a year researching (part of the time in Tuskegee) and an additional year writing.
"The biggest source of information aside from the letters was my dad," said Cole, about her father who was also a WWII veteran and passed away in November 2014 at the age of 91. "He was an incredible source of information for me. He was very good at recalling names and dates."
Cole and Schweizer, the director, held a work-in-progress reading of Katherine's Colored Lieutenant in October 2014 at Geva to kick off its Festival of New Theatre.
"The audience was a full house and it was clear to us it was a piece an audience could get involved with and identify with, both in the love story and the historical piece," Schweizer said.
Cole, whose previous performances at Geva include in Fences, Voices of the Spirits in My Soul, and You Can't Take It With You, and on Broadway include Jelly's Last Jam and On The Town, is thrilled to see Katherine's Colored Lieutenant open.
"To see this piece realized is really a tremendous opportunity," Cole said.
If you go
What:Katherine's Colored Lieutenant.
When: Various show times now through Sunday, Feb. 22.
Where: Fielding Nextstage, Geva Theatre Center, 75 Woodbury Blvd.
Cost: Ticket prices start at $35.
More: (585) 232-4382 or www.gevatheatre.org.

domain: artistic


text:
Suite with 100 square metres, panoramic view and facilities to treat yourself.
Lift your vacation experience to the highest level with this 100 square metre suite filled with luxurious design and comfort. Living room with home cinema, lounge area, communication table, nespresso station, refrigerator and climatic wine cabinet. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, separate toilets and a guest bathroom. All complemented by the private and roofed panoramic sun terrace.

domain: travel


text:
Welcome to the Gang-Related News Articles page. This page provides a list of articles pertaining to gangs and gang-related activities from various U.S. and Canadian news sources. A link to the source of each article is provided. The list of articles can be refined and filtered by date and limited to a specific state or Canadian province or territory.
External Links Disclaimer
The article summaries listed contain links to the sites that host the original articles. These sites are not controlled by the National Gang Center. The National Gang Center does not endorse the organizations or views represented by these sites and takes no responsibility for, and exercises no control over, the accuracy, accessibility, copyright or trademark compliance or legality of the material contained on these sites.
Community works to stem gang graffiti (Terra Bella, CA): Community leaders gathered Wednesday night at the Presbyterian Church of Terra Bella for a discussion about how to stem a recent rise in vandalism believed to be the work of street gangs.
Source: The Porterville Recorder Date: January 24, 2010
Gang shooting injures one (Evans, CO): One man was wounded after rival gangs threw bottles and fired multiple rounds during a barbecue in a park, police said.
Source: KMGH 7NEWS Date: January 24, 2010
12 people arrested for early-morning gang fight at Kennewick home (Kennewick, WA): Members of the same gang reportedly got into a bloody fight this morning, sending several people to the hospital and 12 to jail.
Source: Tri-City Herald Date: January 24, 2010
Funds at risk for gang prevention efforts (Oklahoma City, OK): Myron Mayberry will still check up on youths that he’s trying to keep out of gangs if his contract with the Office of Juvenile Affairs ends.
Source: The Oklahoman Date: January 24, 2010
Salinas police step up anti-gang efforts (Salinas, CA): As Salinas prepares for its second round of gang "call-in" meetings, police are preparing to mobilize the enforcement side of the Ceasefire program.
Source: Monterey County Herald Date: January 24, 2010
Pasadena at-risk youth program gets the boot (Pasadena, CA): Keith "Sarge" Gibbs wants answers. Gibbs has been locked in a months-long battle with Pasadena Unified School District officials over his school-based nonprofit program, Sarge's Community Base, which utilizes his 22 years in the military to reform at-risk teens through hard work, counseling and discipline.
Source: Pasadena Star-News Date: January 24, 2010
Officials want stiffer graffiti punishment (Russellville, AL): Local legislators plan to introduce a bill next week that will spell out specific penalties for gang activity and would bring harsher punishment to vandals who paint graffiti.
Source: TimesDaily Date: January 23, 2010
Brockton cops eye city gangs as they probe recent killings and drug dealing (Brockton, MA): Amid the clutter in a Walnut Street basement, narcotics detectives found three spiral notebooks on a desk near the stairs. Inside were handwritten rules and regulations for the Folk Nation, an alliance of street gangs based in the Chicago area.
Source: The Cambridge Chronicle Date: January 23, 2010
Arrests in gang injunction (Wichita Falls, TX): In the first few months of the city’s newest gang injunction, Wichita Falls police have made several arrests related to violations.
Source: Times Record News Date: January 23, 2010
Mowat Gang (Lynn Haven, FL): Authorities say the fight in the boy's bathroom at Mowat Middle School last Friday, was actually an initiation into a street gang known as the "G's", or the Ganster Disciples.
Source: WJHG NewsChannel 7 Date: January 22, 2010
Two arrested after alleged Fall River drive-by shooting (Fall River, MA): A man tied to the Bloods street gang is facing charges he was allegedly behind the wheel in a drive-by shooting late Thursday night.
Source: The Herald News Date: January 22, 2010
Gang members appear in court in alleged Duarte hate crime attack (Duarte, CA): Two Latino gang members accused of shooting a black man and trying to run him over with a car in an alleged hate crime in Duarte last month appeared in court Friday, authorities said.
Source: Pasadena Star-News Date: January 22, 2010
Three Plant City, Florida gang members convicted (Plant City, FL): Three Plant City, Florida gang members were convicted today on conspiracy to commit racketeering. The three members were part of the West Side gang (also known as the Black MOB) and each face up to thirty years.
Source: Examiner Date: January 22, 2010
Four people arrested in alleged gang-related incident (Spartanburg County, SC): Four alleged gang members have been arrested after they allegedly threatened a young boy and his mother during a dispute over him leaving the gang.
Source: WSPA 7 News Date: January 21, 2010
Las Vegas police try to discourage kids from gang life (Las Vegas, NV): The Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department is educating parents and teens about the dangers of gang life. Metro says gang members recruit kids as young as nine-years-old.
Source: KLAS 8 News Date: January 21, 2010
WV intelligence center monitors gang activity (Charleston, WV): West Virginia has its own intelligence gathering agency, the West Virginia Intelligence Fusion Center, located at the capitol complex in Charleston. Its mission is to connect the dots and share information with a variety of state agencies.
Source: West Virginia Public Broadcasting Date: January 21, 2010
Ganging up on street gangs (Pittsfield, MA): Ron "Cook" Barrett held up the yellow and black bandana in front of more than 200 sixth- and seventh-graders from Pittsfield. "How many of you know what gang this represents?" Barrett asked.
Source: The Berkshire Eagle Date: January 21, 2010
Cops arrest six Bloods members following gang assault (Wallkill, NY): Six members of the Bloods street gang have been arrested by Middletown State Police in connection with the violent slashing attack at the Classroom Bar on Route 211 in the Town of Wallkill on January 3.
Source: Mid-Hudson News Date: January 20, 2010
Gang-hit area less hassled, DA says (Modesto, CA): Stanislaus County District Attorney Birgit Fladager told Modesto education officials that a south Modesto neighborhood is improving six months after prosecutors filed a civil lawsuit that limited the activities of a street gang entrenched in the area.
Source: The Modesto Bee Date: January 20, 2010
Salinas man pleads guilty to crimes connected to Nuestra Familia gang (Salinas, CA): A Salinas man pleaded guilty last week to charges of conspiring to sell drugs with Nuestra Familia gang members and their associates.
Source: The Californian Date: January 20, 2010
Disclaimer: The news items and links are provided as an informational resource to you. Each of the linked Web page providers has its own policies and practices regarding how long a link to its news item is available before it is archived or a fee is charged. Also, some of the sites require users to register in order to access materials. We do not guarantee the accuracy, currency, content, or quality of any linked website information, nor whether a link from the website may take the user to unintended or objectionable content. Please contact us to report any problems. Thank you.


text:
Mathura, India: August 15 2003
Sri Srimad Bhaktivedanta Narayana Maharaja
[In a series of 29 classes of Srila Sanatana Gosvami's Brhat-bhagavatamrta, which began on August 14, 2003 and continued throughout most of the Kartika parikrama, Paramapujyapada Srila Narayana Maharaja described the history of Sri Narada Muni's mission to reveal to the world the greatest recipients of Lord Krsna's mercy. This history was originally narrated in the discourse between Maharaja Pariksit and his mother, Uttara.]
After arriving in Dvaraka in an ecstatic and maddened state, Sri Narada Muni made his way into the wonderfully opulent palace of Srimati Rukmini devi, to the entrance of her room, where he saw an astonishing sight. A large crowd had gathered there, including Srimati Rohini-maiya, Rukmini devi and Krsna's other queens, their maidservants, and Sri Uddhava. Everyone there was concerned and upset because, although it was late in the morning, Lord Krsna was still sleeping in His bed.
When those gathered there saw the ecstatic state of Narada Muni, they washed his face with water, attempting to calm him so that he would not disturb Krsna. They asked him what had happened to him and how he had come to be in such a state. He replied, "Water alone will not pacify me; I just want one thing. I want to meet with parama-bhagavata Uddhavaji and get his foot dust. Please tell me where he is."
Uddhava could understand the mood of Narada, why he had come and what his goal was. It was the inner desire of Sri Krsna Himself that all will come to understand who the greatest recipients of His mercy are, and ultimately how the prema of the Vrajavasis and especially the gopis is wonderful and most astonishing.
Speaking to all present, Narada began to proclaim the glories of Uddhava, announcing that he is the best of devotees. Krsna Himself has glorified Uddhavaji with His own lotus mouth in the Srimad Bhagavatam. He says, "Of all devotees, I am Uddhava", and, "He is not less than Me". He also told Uddhava personally, "Oh Uddhava, you are very dear to me. You are dearer to Me than Lord Brahma, more dear than My most dear Mahadeva, more dear than My brother and expansion Sankarsana, and you are more dear to Me than Sri." This word "Sri" refers to Sri Laksmi devi and Srimati Rukmini devi, not to Srimati Radharani. "Oh Uddhava, you are so dear to Me; even My own body is not as dear to Me as you are." Narada continued, "O Uddhava, you are so great that Lord Krsna has continuously described your glories both in the Srimad Bhagavatam and in the various Puranas."
Because of Uddhava's extraordinary qualifications, and because he was very "ripe", he was exclusively chosen by Krsna Bhagavan to visit Vrndavana. Krsna had requested him to try to pacify Nanda Baba, Yasoda-maiya and the gopis, who were burning in the fire of separation from Him. As Sri Naradaji explained all this, Uddhava could understand his intention: to declare everywhere that the gopis are the greatest recipients of Krsna's mercy. Uddhava understood that this was indeed the intention of Krsna Himself.
Continuing this narration to his mother, Maharaja Pariksit explained that when Uddhava heard his own glorification from Sri Narada Muni, he immediately thought of the glories of the Vrajavasis and felt ashamed. Weeping and approaching Rsi Narada, he tightly clasped both his feet. Immediately reaching down, Sri Narada Muni picked him up and embraced him very tightly.
Because of the inner desire of Lord Krsna that His nearest and dearest devotees be revealed and glorified, Rsi Narada had traveled from place to place - to Prayaga, Jagannatha Puri, Brahmaloka, and now to Dvaraka. We should not think he did not understand that the Vrajavasis are in the highest position. Being all-knowing he understands everything, but by the process of seeking out different grades of devotees, one after another, he revealed the glories of the Vrajavasis to all.
We should understand the reason Uddhava clasped the lotus feet of Narada. In one sense Rsi Narada is the guru of Uddhava, being Madhu-mangala, one of the priya-narma-sakhas of Krsna in Vraja along with Subal. He thus knows unlimited secret pastimes of Krsna. Hearing his glorification, Uddhava deeply remembered the glories of the Vrajavasis and thus he began to weep. Whether he wept in sadness or great jubilation we cannot say.
Uddhava recalled, "The prema of the Vrajavasis - Nanda Baba, Yasoda-maiya and especially the gopis - is like an unlimited ocean that has no shore. But who am I? I am nothing. I thought I was a great devotee, and the Yadavas and Ugrasena feel so too, but when I went to Vrndavana my false ego was completely crushed." Remembering how all the Vrajavasis were weeping for Sri Krsna day and night, Uddhava himself continuously wept. He wondered how Krsna could stay there in Dvaraka even though the residents of Vraja have so much more prema for Him. Sri Balarama and some of the other Vrajavasis present in Rukmini's palace rose and managed to calm him.
Uddhava felt some sattvika-matsarya, transcendental jealousy, towards Rsi Narada, due to the latter's intimate knowledge of Krsna's confidential pastimes. Matsarya means envy, and sattvika means completely devoid of the three modes of nature. Thus sattvika-matsarya bhava, in the disagreements between Srimati Satyabhama and Rukmini, or between Srimati Radhika and Candravali, is a pure transformation of krsna-prema. We should not misunderstand their contrary feelings to be ordinary sentiments as seen in this world. Understand for certain that these are manifestations of suddha-sattva, pure spiritual existence.
When we chant under the guidance of Hari, Guru and Vaisnavas, that sattvika-bhava enters our heart and we can understand these topics. This is also called tadatma-bhava. As when an iron rod is placed into fire the iron develops the same qualities as the fire, a surrendered devotee realizes the moods of these associates.
Remembering the high degree of the gopis' anuraga, their maha-bhava for Lord Krsna, Uddhava's mind was not peaceful. He was particularly struck by the memory of Srimati Radhika singing the verses of Brahmara-gita in great distress. He remembered Her display of divyona-mada, divine madness, and Her other various stages of mahabhava. Not only did Uddhava weep because of these memories, but all the Dvarakavasis, and even Krsna Himself, cried while remembering them.
The gopis had great prema-sampati-vaibhava, wealth and opulence in krsna-prema. In order to keep their distress hidden from the general people they sought the solitude of the Vrndavana forests and especially the Yamuna. There, however, they were reminded of all Krsna's lilas and cried still more. Remembering Him day and night, they would continuously weep and roll on the ground.
Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu Himself displayed these symptoms when He came to this world. At night He would not rest. Instead, remembering the gopis and their various pastimes with Krsna, spiritual ecstasy manifested in Him and He would weep bitterly.
In viraha, separation, deep remembrance of the meetings they had with Sri Krsna came to the gopis and they exclaimed, "Oh how we met with Him, how we used to talk with Him!" In this separation mood, asta-sattvika-bhava, eight kinds of ecstatic spiritual transformations, would manifest in their bodies. Uddhava also remembered how Srimati Radharani sang the
Brahmara-gita and how She tasted ten different types of anger, jealousy and humility.
When He was leaving His house to take sannyasa, Lord Caitanya abandoned all material circumstances. He left His mother Sacimata standing like a statue. Unable to speak, she wept bitterly as He offered dandavat pranama to her and left home forever. At that time His wife Srimati Visnupriya devi was in a greatly unfortunate situation, also weeping bitterly, but the gopis felt still more separation and more love for Krsna than Visnupriya did for Lord Caitanya.
After clasping the lotus feet of Sri Narada Muni, Uddhava said, "O Narada, O all-knowing personality, O crest jewel of all honest and truthful persons, even more so than King Hari-candana and King Yudhisthira! Narada, Guru of all types of devotees including Sri Sukadeva Gosvami and Srila Vyasadeva, you are the original Guru of all types of bhakti. What you speak about me is true, but unfortunately you have left something out. My real glory is hidden. My only quality is the fortune I received by being sent by Lord Krsna to Vraja, where I saw the prema of the Vrajavasis. At that place there is a "prema school," of which Srimati Radhika is the principle. Her two department heads are Srimati Lalita-devi and Srimati Visakha-devi. In the subject of prema, my qualification was so low that I could not even get admission into that school. I could only offer pranama to those gopis. My false ego was crushed by that experience, and I realized that Lord Krsna was being very merciful to me and blessing me abundantly. I know the Vrajavasis are the greatest devotees, and of them all, the gopis are the most excellent. I am therefore undoubtedly very fortunate and a great recipient of Krsna's mercy, due to witnessing their
great state of separation from Him.
"O Narada, there in Vrndavana I drowned in a great unlimited ocean of happiness. Seeing their immaculate prema and hearing their expressions of separation for Sri Krsna, I tried my best to glorify them, but I could not do very well. In this entire universe the earth is most fortunate because of the presence of Vrndavana, and Vrndavana is fortunate because of the
presence of the gopis."
etah param tanu-bhrto bhuvi gopa-vadhvo
govinda eva nikhilatmani rudha-bhavah
vanchanti yad bhava-bhiyo munayo vayam ca
kim brahma-janmabhir ananta-katha-rasasya
[Uddhava sang: "Among all persons on earth, these cowherd women alone have actually perfected their embodied lives, for they have achieved the perfection of unalloyed love for Lord Govinda. Their pure love is hankered after by those who fear material existence, by great sages, and by us as well. For one who has tasted the narrations of the infinite Lord, what is the use of taking birth as a high-class brahmana, or even as Lord Brahma himself?" (Srimad-Bhagavatam 10.47.58)]
"The bhava of the gopis is so wonderful and glorious that those who are afraid of material existence, those who are munis, free from all types of material desire, and even I myself desire to attain that type of love towards Krsna that the gopis experience."
We are foolish persons, choosing marriage in this world over absorption in the nectar of these topics, believing that in this way we can enjoy more happiness. This is a very poor idea. Simply sit and hear, and if you don't understand, continue to sit here and listen again and again. Then, one day you will understand.
Sri Uddhavaji continued, "In whatever condition one is situated, if one is of bad character and has all types of disqualifications, if one is like a woman who leaves her husband, or like Kubja who had lust toward Krsna, if one approaches Krsna, he will be purified. Even one who is unaware of the powers possessed by touchstones, mantras and medicinal herbs, one will definitely be affected by their contact. Similarly, those who hear the topics of the gopis' prema towards Lord Krsna will undoubtedly become purified." Uddhava said that the mercy Sri Krsna gave to the gopis is not possible to be received by anyone else, including the most attractive girls in this world, nor even by Sri Laksmi devi:
ya vai sriyarcitam ajadibhir apta-kamair
yogesvarair api yad atmani rasa-gosthyam
krsnasya tad bhagavatah caranaravindam
nyastam stanesu vijahuh parirabhya tapam
["The goddess of fortune herself, along with Lord Brahma and all the other demigods, who are masters of yogic perfection, can worship the lotus feet of Krsna only within their minds. But during the rasa dance Lord Krsna placed His feet upon these gopis' breasts, and by embracing those feet the gopis gave up all distress." (Srimad-Bhagavatam 10.47.62)]
Even great perfected munis and powerful personalities like Lord Brahma and Lord Siva, in their greatest attempts at meditation, are only able to think of the lotus foot dust of Lord Krsna with great difficulty and rare success. How much greater is the prema of the gopis! They are not satisfied by simply meditating on His lotus foot dust. They hold those same lotus feet, meditated on by the best of perfected personalities, on their breasts, and thus become free from their grief of separation.
["I repeatedly offer my respects to the dust from the feet of the women of Nanda Maharaja's cowherd village. When these gopis loudly chant the glories of Sri Krsna, the vibration purifies the three worlds."
"All glories to the gopis of Vrndavana," Uddhava said. "They are greatly powerful because they are always talking about Lord Krsna. With great care and attention, I worship one dust particle from their lotus feet." One speck of dust can only be present on the lotus feet of one gopi - Srimati Radhika. He wept in great separation and said, "I don't have that bhava".
Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu used to taste all the moods of the gopis. After the Ratha-yatra festival, He was lying down in a garden. At that time Maharaja Prataparudra, disguised as an ordinary Vaisnava, approached Him and, while massaging His lotus feet, sang the verses of Gopi-gita. When Lord Caitanya heard these verses He became ecstatic, stood up and said,
"Oh! Unfortunately, because I am simply a sannyasi beggar, I have no wealth to offer you. The only wealth I can give you is My embrace." He embraced Prataparudra Maharaja who, by the mercy of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu, also drowned in prema.
This Srimad Bhagavatam is like an ocean, churned very strongly by Srila Sukadeva Gosvami. At the bottom of that ocean there were some very precious jewels, the glorification of the gopis given in Rasa-Pancadyaya, the five chapters of the Bhagavatam concerned with the Rasa-lila - like Gopi-gita, Brahmara-gita and Pranaya-gita. We are very fortunate to come
in contact with these topics, for they are the priceless jewels of the Srimad Bhagavatam. Who can glorify the gopis more than this?
Transcriber and editor: Bhadra dasi
Assistant editor: Syamarani dasi
Typist: Vasanti dasi

domain: literature


text:
I met the Syrian-born poet Adonis on the morning of 7 February in the cool but sunny gallery of the Mosaic Rooms near Earl’s Court. Widely considered the greatest living Arab poet, Adonis was in London on this occasion not for his poetry but for a major exhibition – on until 30 March – of his striking and unusual collages. Bold yet subtle, with vivid splotches of colour superimposed on fragments of Arabic poetry written in his own flowing calligraphy, the collages glimmered around us as we chatted. To me they seemed like visual counterparts of his extraordinary verse, with its dream-like shifts of tone and image; poetry written in what he himself once called ‘a language of strangled bells’.
Adonis is now eighty-two but he doesn’t show his age. In a natty tweed blazer over a raspberry-coloured sweater, he cuts a compact yet elegant figure. When I tell him that I first heard him read forty years ago in Philadelphia, when I was beginning to study Arabic, and that the impression of his reading has stayed with me ever since, he looks bemused, gazing at me for a few seconds as though trying to recall that distant occasion; then he smiles and nods. He seems pleased but, refreshingly, he displays none of the swagger that too often has bedevilled Arabic poetry from its very beginnings; the great tenth-century Arab poet al-Mutanabbi, whom Adonis admires, once wrote: ‘If I’m arrogant, it’s the arrogance of a wonder of nature/who’s never found anyone superior to himself.’ Such braggadocio is distinctly not Adonis’s style.
He began making his collages some twelve years ago, during a period when he was dispirited and could neither write nor read but passed his time listening to music. He had spoken of ‘retiring from poetry’. He spent a year experimenting with collage-making – he liked ‘the ludic dimension about playing with the hands’, not possible in writing – but then destroyed everything he had done. When a friend happened to spot a new collage on his wall and asked about it, Adonis pretended that it was someone else’s work. This was hardly plausible: after all, his collages are composed of passages of Arabic verse – his own as well as those of the classical poets – in his own distinctive script. His friend was astute enough to guess this and immediately arranged for an exhibition.
Adonis’s collages are complex creations. He seems especially drawn to splotches and accents of bright red, but when I ask him about this, he replies, ‘No, my colour is black but black demands red.’ And it’s true – for when you look more closely, it is obvious how dramatically those crimson notes enhance the blackness of the inked letters and the vertical strokes that separate the lines of the verse.
Adonis tells me that he doesn’t think of his medium as ‘collage’. He prefers to describe it with the Arabic word rakima. This literally denotes something ‘heaped up’, an ‘accumulation’, as in a cloud-bank; an early poet uses a variant of the word to describe a moonless night in which darkness is piled upon darkness. The term is apt. As he explains it, a rakima involves three elements: calligraphy, colour, and a ‘figurative element’. Adonis creates his images by aggregation: rags and scraps of paper, yarn and string, shreds of fabric, even bits of metal, have been laid over the texts in abstract shapes and the verses are at once obscured and accentuated by these ragged elements. Seen up close, the effect is somewhat disturbing; there is an aura of unexpected violence about them. From afar, at first glance, the works may look vaguely decorative, but that is an illusion. However beautiful or even exquisite the patterns, they fracture and interrupt the texts beneath them. The splendours of the past, the classical majesty of the old poetry, they seem to say, are there, just beyond our reach; we can glimpse them in broken measures but we cannot reclaim them.
Adonis has published over fifty books of poetry, essays and criticism but his magnum opus is the three-volume work known simply as al-Kitab (The Book), a massive and unclassifiable poetic work published between 1995 and 2002. I’d always been puzzled by his title: after all, in Arabic ‘the Book’ par excellence is the Koran itself (though the classic work on grammar by the eighth-century philologist Sibawayhi is also reverently known as ‘the book’). ‘No, no,’ he replies, the notion of ‘the book’ is an ‘old Semitic concept’. It embodies ‘the effort to say everything’. In fact, Adonis tells me, his ambition had nothing to do with the Koran – about which, along with Islam in general, he has strong and provocative views – but is more akin to the desire that the French poet Mallarmé expressed: ‘to put the entire world into a book’. His allusion to Mallarmé is hardly surprising. Adonis, who draws on all the poetry of the past, European as well as Middle Eastern, and whose work is full of conscious echoes of French, Spanish and English poetry, has a fair claim to be considered not simply a great Arab poet but a poet of international standing. Though he remains faithful to his roots in the small Syrian village where he was born to an Alawite family under the name Ali Ahmad Sa’id in 1930, and though his poetry springs from that soil, he is intensely cosmopolitan in his scope and outlook. In this regard, he tells me that he is ‘a mystic without God’ for whom ‘the human being is the essential thing’. And he remarks further that ‘if there is a God, He exists amongst us for despite the fact that human beings are ephemeral, they remain the centre of the world’. He proudly describes himself as a ‘humanist’ and remarks that everything depends on the fact that ‘the other is I’. He quotes a definition of friendship by an early mystic, a saying which ultimately derives from Greek antiquity, to the effect that ‘a friend is another who is also yourself’. This unswerving idealism is no doubt one reason why, alongside his monumental body of work, he has regularly been considered a strong contender for the Nobel Prize in Literature.
In the first volume of The Book, Adonis writes, in one of the many marginalia that festoon the text: ‘We do not know who we are nowadays and who we will become since we do not know who we have been and so I will recount to you who we have been.’ I quote this to Adonis, remarking that it puzzles me a bit since the Arabs have always seemed to me to have a long memory – indeed perhaps too long a memory. He gives an impassioned reply: ‘The Arabs must forget!’ Memory, he says, can be toxic: ‘It is a poison.’ ‘One cannot create without forgetting,’ he adds, and then he tells me a little story. One day an aspiring young poet appears before a famous critic and asks him to judge his poems. The critic asks him to read and when the poet has finished, he says, ‘Go and learn all Arabic poetry by heart and then come back to me.’ The poet goes away and much later returns with his memory filled to the brim. ‘Now,’ says the critic, ‘forget it all!’
Adonis smiles as he tells this story. Perhaps it has personal resonance for him. After all, he grew up in a poor village without any formal schooling. As a child he memorised the Koran and then thousands of poems. Perhaps he sensed even then that in order to forget creatively, you have first to amass as much as memory itself can contain.
Again and again during the hour we spend conversing, Adonis emphasises his belief that the creation of something ‘out of the ordinary’ can only be possible when it emerges out of a past tempered by a liberating forgetfulness. In his great critical work, The Fixed and the Flowing (al-Thabit wa’l-mutahawwil) – which has gone through fifteen editions since its first publication in 1974 – he views Arabic poetry as pinioned between two extremes: the realm of the Fixed, associated with official religion and political power, and the realm of the Fluid, the ever-changing and the transformational, which he identifies with the spirit of poetry itself. He is vehemently opposed to ‘official’ Islam not only because it censors views and restricts individual liberty but because ‘it kills language’. (He has the same disdain for politics and political poetry, for similar reasons.) Because of this, dogmatic religion is more dangerous than political censorship or oppression: ‘It constricts the space open to language.’ His remarks remind me of a line from one of his early collections, and I quote it to him: ‘I consider the mosque, the church, as twin executioners, and the earth as a rose.’ He completes the quote before I can and it is clear that his views have not changed since this was written.
Islam, he tells me, is ‘a religion without culture’. In orthodox Islam, ‘God is an abstract force.’ Whatever Islam may have been in its origins, ‘it has been destroyed nowadays by the Salafis’, the zealous purists who invoke a pristine – and fictional – golden age of belief in the days of the Prophet Muhammad. In fact, as Adonis shows throughout The Book, early Islam was marked by ferocious conflict: three of the first four caliphs were murdered; civil wars and massacres occurred over and over again. For Adonis, the true spirit of original Islam is to be found among the Sufis, the Muslim mystics who arose in the first century or so after Muhammad and who cultivated an inwardness and love of God absent from official Islam. Though he believes that the Sufis were not really Muslims in any traditional sense – a view shared, ironically enough, by many orthodox Muslims – he praises them because ‘they changed the very conception of God’ within Islam. He admires them too because they composed some of the most beautiful prose in the Arabic language. Adonis is putting together an anthology of this prose to complement his influential four-volume anthology of Arabic poetry from its beginnings to modern times. That anthology, it should be said, has done as much as his own poetry to reinvent the possibilities of Arabic verse; the wit and discrimination of his selections have revealed that the classical tradition is not rigid or monolithic but full of surprises.
The language of Islamic mysticism, that melange of precision and extravagance, has always appealed to Adonis; but interestingly enough, he was first drawn to Sufism because of his immersion in Surrealism. In his brilliant monograph Sufism and Surrealism, one of his few critical works available in English translation, he has explored the tacit connections between these otherwise disparate traditions: their fondness for paradox, for startling imagery, for insight gleaned from the inexpressible.
These elements pervade his poetry as well. Though he has been translated abundantly into French, translations into English have lagged behind. The poet and novelist Khaled Mattawa has recently translated a generous and representative selection of his verse (Selected Poems, Yale University Press, 2010), which has just been awarded the 2011 Saif Ghobash–Banipal Prize for Arabic Literary Translation, and rightly so: for the first time, English readers can get a just sense of Adonis’s extraordinary poetic genius.
As our conversation winds to an end, Adonis seems to want to reaffirm his fundamental position. He has an aphoristic way of expressing himself. ‘Ideology is blindness,’ he declares. And then, spreading his arms wide, he says, ‘I would like to be like a tree, open to everything, a tree open to the horizon. I would like to be a part of space, like a tree.’ I have the feeling that this sudden lyrical exclamation is not entirely spontaneous – after all, the tree is a powerful image in his poetry. But it doesn’t matter. It captures his lifelong stance, his openness as well as his rootedness. And I feel privileged to have been able to spend an hour under his shade.


text:
In this detailed overview, we will explore the world of huay online lotto games in Germany, checking out the various platforms, regulations, pointers, as well as tricks for a boosted experience. If you’re a lottery game lover seeking a amazing and practical means to attempt your luck, “Lottery Niemcy Online” is the perfect location to start. We’ll cover everything from the fundamentals to innovative strategies, providing you with the understanding and also self-confidence to engage in this thrilling task.
What is Lotto Niemcy Online?
” Lottery Niemcy Online” is the term made use of to explain the on-line lotto game offerings available in Germany With the improvements in modern technology as well as the increase of on-line betting, lotto games have actually also embraced the digital period. Gamers can now take part in various lottery video games with respectable on the internet systems, providing convenience, adaptability, as well as a substantial selection of games.
The Legitimacy of Online Lotto in Germany.
As you venture right into the world of on the internet lottery niemcy, it’s critical to understand the validity of these tasks. On the internet lottery game in Germany is entirely legal and controlled. The state-run operator, Lotto.de, is the key authority in charge of overseeing lotto video games and making sure fair game. Gamers can with confidence join on the internet lotto video games, recognizing that they are well-protected by German laws and also laws.
Advantages of Lottery Niemcy Online
Taking part in online lottery game in Germany provides various benefits, making it a popular choice amongst lotto game lovers:
Comfort: With on-line systems, you can get tickets as well as play lottery games from the comfort of your house, removing the need to visit physical outlets.
Video Game Variety: Online lotto sites use a large range of video games, from standard lotto attracts to instant-win scrape cards, offering you extra options to pick from.
Worldwide Reach: Via on the internet systems, you can participate in lotteries from around the globe, increasing your possibilities of winning large.
Promos and also Perks: Online lotto niemcy platforms often give attractive promos as well as rewards, improving your total gaming experience.
Automated Notifications: You’ll obtain automated alerts regarding draw outcomes and any kind of profits, guaranteeing you never miss out on a prize.
Protect Transactions: Reliable online lottery game systems use advanced file encryption and also safety actions to secure your economic transactions.
Exactly How to Get Started with Lottery Niemcy Online?
If you’re ready to dive into the amazing globe of on-line lotto game in Germany, comply with these easy steps to begin:
Step 1: Choose a Relied On Platform
The very first and most crucial action is to choose a trustworthy on the internet lottery game system. Look for systems with favorable reviews, appropriate licensing, and also a straightforward user interface. Lotto.de is the main state-run driver, making certain a secure and also reputable gaming environment.
Step 2: Register an Account
Once you have actually chosen a system, you’ll require to sign up for an account. Offer the required details, and keep in mind to use exact details to prevent any issues during prize claims.
Action 3: Down Payment Finances
After creating an account, you’ll require to down payment funds to purchase lottery game tickets. Reputable systems offer numerous settlement options, making it very easy to fund your account safely.
Tip 4: Pick Your Game
Explore the selection of lottery niemcy online games offered on the system as well as pick the one that catches your rate of interest. You can choose typical lottery attracts or try your good luck with various other interesting video games.
Tip 5: Purchase Tickets
It’s time to acquire tickets as soon as you have actually picked a video game. Review your numbers thoroughly, and also if you choose, use arbitrary number generators for a more spontaneous technique.
Step 6: Play Responsibly
Keep in mind that lottery game is a lottery, as well as while winning can be exceptionally fulfilling, it’s essential to play responsibly and also within your ways.
Lotto Niemcy Online: Top Tips for Success
To boost your opportunities of success and make best use of the enjoyable of on the internet lottery game in Germany, consider these beneficial pointers:
Sign Up With Lotto Pools: Taking part in lottery game pools permits you to buy even more tickets jointly, raising your possibilities of winning without breaking the bank.
Expand Your Numbers: Rather than relying on the exact same collection of numbers, try mixing up your combinations for every draw.
Stay Informed: Keep track of upcoming draws, rewards, as well as promotions to maximize your lottery game experience.
Claim Your Prizes: If you win, do not fail to remember to declare your rewards without delay. Some lottos have expiration dates for prize claims.
Establish a Spending Plan: Choose a budget for your lottery game expenditures as well as prevent looking at it, guaranteeing that you play responsibly.
Play Consistently: Consistency can boost your probabilities in time. Consider playing frequently yet within your budget limitations.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs).
What Are the Chances of Winning the Lottery Niemcy Online?
The odds of winning the on the internet lotto in Germany differ depending on the game you select to play. Typically, lottery game games supply long shots, but they additionally include life-altering pots.
Can I Play Lottery Niemcy Online from An Additional Country?
Yes, lots of on the internet lotto game systems approve gamers from different nations. Nonetheless, it’s important to examine the system’s problems and also terms to see if your nation of residence is qualified for participation.
What Occurs If I Win a Prize?
The on-line lotto platform will certainly alert you regarding your jackpots if you win a jackpot or any kind of significant prize. Relying on the amount, you may require to follow particular procedures to assert your reward.
Exactly How Are Winnings Paid?
Profits are usually paid through numerous methods, such as bank transfers or electronic pocketbooks, ensuring a hassle-free and protected purchase.
Are Online Lottery Platforms Secure?
Trusted online lotto game systems use sophisticated protection actions, consisting of encryption and safe and secure settlement portals, to shield their users’ sensitive information and also financial purchases.
What Is the Legal Age to Play Lottery Niemcy Online?
In Germany, the adultness to take part in lotto game games, both online and offline, is 18 years old.
Taking part in online lotto in Germany through “Lotto Niemcy Online” supplies a amazing as well as practical way to try your luck as well as potentially win life-changing rewards. Keep in mind to select a trustworthy platform, play sensibly, and remain informed regarding upcoming draws and also promotions. Now that you have the knowledge as well as pointers to get going, it’s time to sign up with the on the internet lottery community and embrace the excitement of the video game.
In this extensive overview, we will dive into the world of on the internet lottery in Germany, exploring the numerous systems, guidelines, tips, and also methods for an enhanced experience. If you’re a lotto game fanatic looking for a practical as well as interesting method to attempt your luck, “Lottery Niemcy Online” is the best place to begin. Gamers can confidently participate in on the internet lottery video games, knowing that they are well-protected by German laws and also guidelines.
The very first and most essential action is to choose a reliable online lottery platform. Getting involved in on-line lottery in Germany through “Lotto Niemcy Online” uses a amazing and also practical way to attempt your luck and possibly win life-altering rewards.

domain: game


text:
New Philadelphia targets abandoned, dilapidated properties
NEW PHILADELPHIA — In an effort to clean up the city, New Philadelphia officials have issued separate tear down orders for two dilapidated or abandoned properties in the community.
The properties targeted are at 117 Sixth Drive NW and 410 Second St. NE.
Demoliton of the structure on the Second Street property began last week. The work was being done by Diversified Engineering of New Philadelphia.
"City Fire Inspector Jim Sholtz, City Building and Zoning Code Administrator Mike Scolati and Law Director Marvin Fete have targeted several such properties in the city," Mayor Joel Day told council last Monday.
"They will continue to be aggressive in removing them from our neighborhoods. The structures are eyesores, and in some cases, dangerous to the inhabitants and shelters for drug users and the homeless."
On a similar note, council gave final approval last Monday to an ordinance that would allow city officials to take action against properties that have become a nuisance through repeated police calls.
It also creates a Board of Nuisance Abatement Appeals, which would give property owners due process to challenge those claims.
City leaders were prompted to take action after repeated problems with the former OYO Motel, 181 Bluebell Drive SW.
Fete urged council to approve the measure.
"In addition to the problems we've had with the former OYO Motel, we've got another landlord-tenant situation where we've been out there 12 times already this year for overdoses," he said before the vote.
"If landlords and businesses aren't going to be responsible for who they rent to and who they allow to stay at their hotel, then they're going to start paying us for cleaning up their mess."
He added, "It's time they start paying for the drugs and the overdoses they're allowing to happen right here in our community because I'm sick of it. I know the fire department is sick of it, the mayor's sick of it and so is the police department."
The ordinance received unanimous approval.

domain: sociology


Premier John Horgan has released the following statement in recognition of the National Day of Mourning, April 28, 2019, for workers killed and injured in the workplace:
“On this National Day of Mourning, people around B.C. and across the country will observe a moment of silence in honour of those who were killed or injured in the workplace. We share this moment with the family and friends of fallen workers, who feel this loss every single day.
“There were 131 work-related deaths and many more injuries in B.C. in 2018. For most of us, working is a fact of life. Safe working conditions should be, too. No injury or death at work is acceptable. While we have made some progress in workplace safety in B.C., more work needs to be done.
“Our government increased access to services and compensation for first responders, correctional officers and sheriffs, and on April 16, 2019, we made regulatory changes that give emergency dispatchers, nurses and publicly funded health-care assistants easier access to compensation for mental-health disorders.
“In the last year, WorkSafeBC increased the number of prevention and investigation inspections, and government commissioned a review of the workers’ compensation system.
“Our government remains committed to the fair treatment of workers and employers to prevent workplace tragedies, so that everyone makes it home at the end of the day.
“In honour of those who lost their lives or suffered injuries, we will keep working to make workplaces in every corner of our province safe for everyone.”
- Have you seen Cameron Fitzpatrick?.. January 21, 2020
- Search Warrant executed at a home in Chetwynd… January 20, 2020
- Snowfall Warning for Mackenzie and Pine Pass region… January 19, 2020


There is nothing in your basket!
- Watch up updating the GPS Training Podcast - Episode 5
- January Offer - 2018
- GPS Training Webinars - what are they?
- Watch us recording the GPS Training podcast - podcast 4
- GPS Training clinic - November 2017
- Watch us recording the GPS Training podcast - podcast 3
- Just back from Japan
- GPS Course Locations 2018
- Watch us recording the GPS Training podcast - podcast 2
- What happens when you press the SOS botton on a SPOT3 personal tracker
- GPS Glossary of Terms
- inReach: Escape through the Gold Mine
- A small anecdote - our training in action
- Geocaching just got easier - Garmin Express
- Garmin inReach - what happens when you press the SOS button?
articles from GPS Training
join our mailing list to receive offers and updates.
- 6th Feb 14:10
Galileo satellite system - Outdoor GPS - https://t.co/sKcVk2NO1Y https://t.co/Sf10Q2pyvE
- 5th Feb 20:12
Galileo satellites experiencing problems with the onboard clocks - https://t.co/Os8bZfYy5H https://t.co/bAhtEqRJjW
- 4th Feb 17:40
We don't sell a box with an Outdoor GPS in - https://t.co/2wiRKqBdHE https://t.co/ku9dxh8Vs4
- 4th Feb 07:15
An Oregon GPS unit in action. https://t.co/QoKwfSzfjY
- 3rd Feb 20:12
Video review - what is the best Outdoor GPS - https://t.co/Viw6fHSDiG https://t.co/EZEfvIVikc


text:
Download Durella – Na Your Way Mp3
Here on Wapbaze we dish out a new package dubbed ''Durella – Na Your Way'' go through it below and give your review
More For You: Durella - “Banging”
Durella is back with a new tune titled “Na Your Way”. Pretty good dance tune from the ‘King of the Zanga”. Na your way was produced by g-Baloo. Hit that play button and tell me what you think!
July 1, 2020, 01:38 am


The City of Eugene recently submitted three projects for the federally funded transportation enhancement (TE) program, which has historically funded many off-street path projects in Eugene. In the current round of funding, ODOT is considering two projects in Eugene out of about 85 applications in total. The public comment period for the TE project selection process is now open and will continue through Jan. 28. The TE program is very competitive, so it is important for members of the public to weigh in on these projects if they have any comments. Read about these two Eugene projects then take the survey to comment on them.
Proposed Eugene projects include:
* Westmoreland Park path and lighting project. This project through Westmoreland Park will provide an important connection to the Fern Ridge Path for people who live in the neighborhoods around the park. New east-west and north-south paths will be built through Westmoreland Park to reduce out-of-direction travel for pedestrians and bicyclists who must now travel through a congested school parking lot at the Arts and Technology Academy or travel on busy streets such as Chambers and Polk streets. These paths will not only improve the transportation system for people traveling through the area but will also better serve students, staff, and visitors traveling to the Arts and Technology Academy, Family School, Boys and Girls Club, and Kidsports, and the many people who attend the sports activities that take place at the City-owned sports fields in Westmoreland Park. The east-west path will make a new pedestrian and bicycle connection from Fillmore Street to the intersection of Taylor Street/20th Avenue and provide a connection to the 20th Ave. corridor. The new paths will be about a half mile long with pedestrian-scaled lighting. The project will also add lighting on the existing path from 18th Avenue to the Boys and Girls Club next to the Arts and Technology School.
* Jessen path and lighting, Beltline Highway to Terry Street. This project in the Bethel neighborhood will serve Golden Gardens Park and provide a safe and comfortable alternative to busy streets for the neighborhood along Barger Street. The path would connect with the Randy Pape Beltline off-street path and the bike lanes on Terry Street. The 12-foot- wide concrete path will be approximately a mile long and will include pedestrian-scaled lighting.
The City also originally submitted an application for the “Blair-Van Buren Active Transportation Corridor” but that application lacked some necessary information and will apparently be resubmitted for another round of applications still to be determined.
These projects need your comments and support. There are 85 applications and showing public support will help. Take the survey (also accessible via the ODOT Local Government Section web site which also has links to the list of other projects under consideration and copies of the TE applications.


text:
The UltraSEEK® Melanoma Panel enables study of disease progression and resistance in melanomas. Detects more than 55 clinically relevant variants across 13 genes including BRAF, KIT and NRAS. Identifes variants at as low as 0.1% variant allele frequency.
Uses as little as 10 ng of cfDNA. 1 hour of hands-on time and 8 hours of total time.

domain: medical