Medieval ruins found under high school gym in Finland
Located adjacent to the Aboa Vetus history museum, also built over medieval ruins, the plot on which the Cathedral School stands has been the site archaeological digs for the past three years.
i like clues because they make sense, unlike people, who have legs that go on for days. how can a leg go on for days? i don’t know. help
i got the call late at night: “there’s been a murder on the orient express.” i knew i had to take the case immediately, because that is a TRAIN
i have been told i am “gritty” and “hardboiled”, maybe because i eat so many eggs and crunch the bits of shell between my teeth
“he’s the killer!” i said. “wait, no he’s not. wait, all these people look the same, which one is which again?”
i’m a straight shooter who plays by my own rules, all 376 of them that I have in this annotated binder
i’m a lose cannon, in fact, i have been institutionalized for erratic behavior
my job as a detective is made harder by the fact that i am physically incapable of telling a lie or bluffing but made easier by the fact that i have no emotions about anything but trains. once a train was murdered, and i couldn’t stop crying
she had curves in all the right places. i like curves, because they make sense, unlike people
i like my liquor hard, and my social interactions harder
i’m the best detective around, but my fees are high, and i only take payment in trains
she had curves in all the right places. she was a graph i was making about trains. in the other room, my dad was crying because i wouldn’t make eye contact with him
“you will tell me what i want.” i said. “everyone tells me what i want. i’m tough as nails, and i’m not afraid to display aggressive behavior”
i got into this job because one time in fifth grade i asked my special teacher why people don’t like me, and she told me to be a detective and figure it out. i took that completely literally, and here we are today
maybe i should throw away all my detective memorabilia so that i can hug my dad for the first time
“i know you’re a detective,” my mom sniffled, “but sometimes i feel like the real detective, trying to figure out how to finally help you”
the only mystery i cannot solve is the mystery of why these nice ladies keep making me play with special blocks. i have literally no theories about why this is happening
“i didn’t solve the case, and i let a second train get murdered!” i cried. “i’m a bad detective!” “oh, honey, no,” my mom soothed, “you’re not a bad detective, you’re just special, and sometimes that means things are a little bit harder for you”
he handed me the pictures of the suspects. i crossed out their eyes so i could look at their faces.
i got the call late at night. “TEXT ME” i shouted into the phone
“there’s been a terrible murder.” “that makes 231,” i said, twirling my hair. i like numbers.
she had curves that went on for legs. i reminded myself to make eye contact, like my special teacher told me
“ain’t she a beauty?” i asked. my special teacher had been working with me on saying “isn’t.” “a genuine Horse .75. i got her 12 years and 37 days ago and she weighs exactly 14 ounces. i call her Melissa, after my special teacher. she’s almost as good as a train.”
i took out my bottle of whiskey, and started to read the label aloud
i’m a private eye. that means i think eyes should be private. why do people have to look at each other’s eyes all the time?
the ceiling fan moved slowly in my grimy office, slowly like someone about to give up on the world. i stared up, up, up at it, distracted from my obsessive cleaning. it had curves in all the right places
the whole world seemed black and white, like an old film, or my thinking
i took my gun out of the pocket of my trench coat, which i was wearing because of my sensory issues
with my gun smashed to pieces on the floor and the criminal’s gun pointed right at me, it seemed like just about the right time to elope
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a Nobbs in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of another one.
Why is this making me want Bucky Barnes/Eliot Spencer buddy fic?
OMG, you too? It’s gotta be the hair and the shirt.
It’s a very distinctive look.
Gotta be.
Can’t you just picture it though? Hitter buddies hanging out, doing their thing, and neither of them really talking about their past, but every now and then Bucky does something in such a way that reminds Eliot of something familiar from a job or two, but… nah couldn’t be…
Title: The Cyborg Arm Job Rating: Teen and Up Summary: The Leverage crew run into a new friend, find some buried treasure, and fight some Nazis. It’s a pretty good day. (Leverage/MCU crossover) Warnings: None.
***
They found him in the middle of a bar fight. He was in the middle of the bar fight as well.
“This is a gastropub!” Eliot yelled, charging out from the kitchen. “There are no bar fights in a gastropub!”
“Man, I don’t think he cares,” Hardison said. He was watching the fight from a distance with an almost philosophical look on his face. Most of the table settings in the immediate area were already broken, so that was no longer of any concern, and he’d never liked that pattern anyway (it had been a compromise betweeen Eliot’s desire for square plates and Parker’s desire for lots of flowers, and nobody ended up satisfied).
Let me introduce you all to the One Sweater. My grandmother made this sucker for me maybe 20 years ago? It’s gorgeous and bulky and has a giant hood and POCKETS.
I get showered with compliments every time I wear it and I finally went digging in her pattern stash and FOUND THE PATTERN! Heh. I guess now there’s a reason to be glad she doesn’t throw anything away.
Gorgeous
@misscegenation , i totally understand not giving us that pattern but…. help a knitter out…
This is an amazing sweater, with a hood AND pockets?! Yowzah
imagine a crocodile with horse-like legs… unstoppable… i would love to ride one o’ those into battle
are you..high
….carry on
Fun fact these ‘crocodile cousins’ with ‘horse-like legs’ existed and was known as a ‘sabre-toothed cat in armour’ due to it’s speed out of water and long fangs. There was the ‘DogCroc’ ( Araripesuchus wegeneri) and ‘BoarCroc’ (Kaprosuchus). The DogCroc (featured above) was only around the size of a small dog, with its skull easily fitting into the palm of someones hand. It lived during the Lower Cretaceous-Upper Cretaceous period;
*Comparison of a DogCroc’s skull to a Sarcosuchus skull. (Sarcosuchus is the largest known crocodile species and was large enough it could even prey upon a T-Rex and could weigh up to ten tonnes and be over forty feet long.)
However the BoarCroc (Kaprosuchus) was twenty-foot long and could gallop across land and preyed upon dinosaurs.
I wonder what their metabolisms were like… and how long could they sustain that gallop for?
Crocs are the most fascinating animal group in history. What we have today is positively boring compared to how experimental this group has been in the past. In addition to the “dog croc,” there were also arboreal crocodiles. That means they lived IN TREES. There was one species that was the size of a whale and lived almost, if not entirely at sea. But, like most whales it was a filter feeder, and not a killer. Crocodiliforms are magic.
Kimchi and Justice 