Captain Theron "Ash" Ashland, USAF Spec Ops.

Captain (retired) Theron "Ash" Ashland, USAF Spec Ops



Age: Ash was born on 07/31/1968, which makes him 47 years old as of 12/04/15. He was medically discharged from the USAF 8 years ago (2007), after serving his entire adult life (18-39) 21 years.

Description: Over 6' tall, brown hair (graying), blue eyes.

Tattoo: The Air Force Special Tactics motto is tattooed on his left forearm. "First There...That Others May Live."

Scar: runs up the left side of his neck, he got it???

Getting into the background: Ash


His mother passed away giving birth to his younger sister.

While Ash was in college in Oregon, his sister Jennie (one year younger) went to Biola University in southern California. When she was at an event in down town LA, performing, she was killed accidentally in a drive shooting by El Maduro, a Latino gang from Los Angeles. They were attempting to a revival gang member present on the scene.

After his sister died, his father (a pastor) killed himself too. Leaving Ash with the house, and no family. Ash was already in his senior year getting a B.S. in Military Science, and he went into the USAF after that year (to run away from the memories and pain).

His lack of family ties made him an excellent candidate for the unsanctioned Operation White Noise, which was the military wing of the experiment.

Ash was a volunteer in White Noise while he was a USAF Captain, Special Tactics Officer.

As a result of the experiment, he lost all memories from about 3 weeks prior to the experiment to 3 weeks afterward. This included the time period in which he volunteered. Therefore, he has no memory of it. He only knows that he woke with 12 weeks of missing memory (6 of, 3 before and after), with no explanation. He also knows that he's had strange PTSD side effects. He was medically discharged with little to no explanation. He was told that he was on a mission and recovered from behind enemy lines, and that's it. Which was a lie on behalf of his leaders.

He was medically discharged 8 years ago.

He moved into his parents home (which he's owned since his father's passing), a two story cabin style home in the woods of Ashland Oregon.

The losses of his youth, later his memories, and his eventual PTSD symptoms left Ash a broken man.

Internally, he jumps at the slightest hint of danger and he sees things that aren't there. But despite that, he strives for a normal life. His medications and counseling appointments keep him fairly stable.

He sees clouds on nearly everyone, every day. On some people he sees actual creatures. Some sightings are clearer than others. Sometimes he sees a colorful cloud grow into a creature, then disappear into cloud again. Mist, smoke, vapor? Hm...

After 8 years, he is generally able to shield his reactions from physically showing to all but the most keen observer.

As part of his therapy, he writes what he sees in a notebook that he keeps in his pocket. He doesn't use cell phones or technology.

Due to his own paranoia, he does keep unregistered weapons, a stash of burner phones, cash, passports, and transportation all at three safe houses. One local, two remote. He also knows the location of empty facilities in the immediate area that he can make use of at any given moment.

As part of his ritual to keep life normal, he works in his workshop making furniture and carvings from the wood on his property (25 acres). He brings the items into town every few days to sell through a local craftsman consignment store, Woodmen Furnishings.

He also stops by the Grounded Cafe' every Monday and Wednesday morning to sit and observe the locals. He has a Veterans support group every Wednesday evening. On Sundays he heads into town for Church on Sunday morning, and to the local Pub on Sunday afternoons (during football season).

This particular Wednesday morning, he's just got his coffee when he's interrupted by crazy Eddie outside. He knows him, he usually acts up every few months, but never this bad. Then he sees creatures on Eddie, talking to him. He's attacked, spilling his coffee onto the ground. That's never happened before. He tries not to hurt him, and the police come and take Eddie away.

Later, on his way to the support group, he meets a woman stranded on the side of the road. She gets into his car for a ride into town. While driving to town, they are rammed off the road off a cliff, but survive. He sees a light creature (not an angel, make is something else, animal, rabbit? wolf? something), just before going off the cliff.

He comes to, injured, the girl is fine, but trapped. There is a man at the top of the cliff holding a gun. Instinct tells him that this is no accident, and he runs with the girl into the forest. They are tracked by the hit man. This is when she confides that she is a reporter, that Dr. Briar was interested in Ash, and she thinks they are up to something.

Ash leads evades the hit man, brings the girl to his safe house, and he gets his weapons. The safe house is shot up, and Ash kills the hit man. They then take off in his back up vehicle (or motorcycle) and head out of town.

Action!


********************  Old Bio below, trying something new above. **************************



Chester was born on 01/01/1986, which makes him 29 years old as of 12/04/15.

Ash is 47 in the year 2015. His Date of Birth: 07/31/1968

Eta is 35 in 2015. Her date of birth, 12/06/1980.


·         Character Sketch Template (Hints)(Strengths List)(Strengths details)(16P-Types)(16P-Theory)



Hello my name is Amy Truthfinder, and I’m here with Colonel Theron "Ash" Ashland, USAF Spec Ops. from the White Noise series, to find out more about him/her and get a little behind the scenes information.


In the way of introductions:

Ash is a Primary character in the book White Noise. He has chosen to side with the Good Guys.

Ash was born on 07/31/1968, which makes him 47 years old as of 12/04/15. He was medically discharged from the USAF 8 years ago (2007), after serving his entire adult life (18-39) 21 years. He draws a full pension, plus hazard disability, and a check from his post as Dean of Military Science at SOU.

As I'm sitting down with him now, I can tell you that he is 6'3", well built, brown eyes, brown hair worn in a slightly longer than military cut. There is a small scar on his neck, under his left ear. 

He is wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a black flack jacket. The Air Force Special Tactics motto is embroidered across the back, which matches the tattoo on his left forearm.
"First There...That Others May Live."


Personality and Motivations:

Tell me, what is your 16P Type, what are you top five Strengths finders results, and what one-three words best describes you?


I'm an ISTP-T, with strengths in Strategic, Achiever, Responsibility, Learner, and Focus 
I am exhausted by social interaction. My friends describe as pragmatic and down-to-earth. I tend to hide my feelings, even from myself. I see efficiency as more important than cooperation. I specialize at improvising and spotting opportunities. I'm flexible, relaxed, and a nonconformist. I don't want to be locked down to a single plan, I want my options open. I'm also a perfectionist and eager to improve. 
One word, huh? Hmm.. Defender! It's tattooed on my arm after all.
  • Strategic - one who is able to see a clear direction through the complexity of a situation
  • Achiever - one with a constant drive for accomplishing tasks
  • Responsibility - one who, inexplicably, must follow through on commitments
  • Learner - one who must constantly be challenged and learning new things to feel successful
  • Focus - one who requires a clear sense of direction to be successful

What do you do with your time when you are not working?


I'm not sure what you mean? I'm on salary as the Dean of Military Science. You think there is ever a time when I'm not working? But I understand your question. There are occasions when I break away, and when I do... I read constantly. I practice playing chess against the computer. I spend time working out my body and mind. I

What are the things you enjoy most in life?


A good history book, a java chip frapachino, and leather chair by the fireplace.

What things just bug you to no end?


I would have to say people... who fail to follow through on their promises.

If every job, task, and activity in the world paid the same (and it was more than enough to have everything you wanted) what would you do?
Wow... that is a great question. At some level I would have to say what I'm doing now. I already receive a full pension so I do not need to work. And training the younger generation, not just students but leaders and teachers, is a special kind of reward. 

If you could sit down and chat with a person who is alive today, who would it be? What about anyone not alive today? What about a non-real person? What about someone from your story world?


A person alive today? Hm... I've met most of the military minds of our time during the service. A few presidents even. I suppose I would have to say that I suppose it would be nice to have lunch with Chuck Norris. I'd like to thank him for entertaining years on television, and his frequent work with the N.R.A.
A non-real person? You mean like, a comic book or movie hero? I would say... You know what? Since we're imagining, I'd like to joint Captain America on a mission. 
A person not alive today... Abraham Lincoln. He had the fortitude to stand where few would stand. He never got to see his dream come to pass, even know it's not fully realized. But he would be proud of the progress we've made as a nation toward unity. 


Training and background

Tell me about your schooling. What high school did you go to? Where did you go to college? What activities did you participate in? Sororities / Fraternities? Were you  in any other groups? Did you work through school, loans, scholarships, rich family?

I was an Ashland High School  - Grizzly, as my father, and his father before him. I joined the ROTC on a full ride scholarship at SOU, only a few blocks from my high school. Graduated with honors at 17.5 and went straight into boot camp on my 18th birthday. I was far too engrossed in the ROTC to be a part of any other activities. And I served in the United States Air Force until my force medical retirement in 2007. 
I was recruited into the Air Force Special Operations Forces (SOF) under Combat Control, where I eventually achieved the rank of Colonel. I worked there for most of my career, until I was recruited for the U.S. Air Force Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (USAF ISR). Of course, that was before the ISR was reclassified as the 25th. 
Toward the end of my career I worked closely with the National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC), I always thought it was funny that they did not separate the words Counter and Terrorism. I worked on special assignments on joint task forces with the Marines, NSA, CIA, and others.
It was a wild ride man. But the truth is... nothing could have prepared me for what came after retirement. Or for that matter, what caused the retirement in the first place... as you read about in White Noise, I'm sure.


Tell me about your major. How many degrees do you have? In what? Why that and not something else?


I majored in Political Science, with a minor in Military Science. I only ever wanted to be a soldier, from as early as I can remember. Until recently, I was enjoying training them. 

Unit recently? How so?


Well, that's what this book is all about. Let's just say my life was disrupted when men broke into my home to kill me. And I've been on a wild ride ever since. 


What was your first job? How many jobs have you had? What was your favorite job? Least favorite job? What do you do now?


My first job was sweeping and cleaning up at the local family owned hardware store, Smith's Hardware. 
Jim Smith was a great guy, taught me a lot about discipline, and being creative with tools. I used to really enjoy people coming in and asking him: "Jim. I want to do this or that..." and man you could see the wheels in his head turn. You know, I once saw him turn a handful of scrape wood into a working Spinning Wheels for a local Lama Farmer? 
Since my father died when I was young, Jim became a surrogate father to me. He was the best man I ever knew. He took me in when my mom and sister both died. He helped me get through my last two years of high school. He put me to work more as a way to channel my energy, than because he needed a worker.
The only life I've ever know after that was the USAF, and now I'm back in my home town at my home college. Excuse me... University now, we upgraded.

Do you hold any licenses, specialties, etc.?


I hold licenses for Concealed Carry and the American Sniper Association (ASA). I also cleared for Top Secret (TS SCI) while I was working under the USAF-ISR. I had other special classifications who's titles themselves are classified, not currently available to the public.

If you could switch jobs today what would you do? (Real and Imagined)


If you'd asked me a while back, before this whole new adventure started. I would have said that I was happy as Dean of Military Science at SOU. Now? I think I'll follow this trail and see where it leads. I don't know... maybe I'll stay at SOU, and pursue this on the side? We'll see.



OK... let's transition back for a moment, and take a look at your life before all of this.


Family history

What are your parents name? Do you know your grandparents? Do you have an siblings? Cousins, Aunts, Uncles, Other important relatives? Are you related to anyone famous?


Unfortunately, that's a sad story. I have none living. 
My Father was Captain Theodore Ashland. He died in 1974, when I was just 6 years old. He died in the Vietnam War, like so many other good men. I remember him of course, but not much. He was gone so often with the war. It's almost like the memory of a memory. Most of what I know about him is from pictures, journals, and stories from extended family. Most of those family are gone now too though.
I had one sister, her name was Mary. She died when she was 12, I was 15 at the time. It was a car accident. August 1985. The roads weren't paved well then. The car was being driven by a 13 year old coming in from the farm. That wasn't uncommon in farm communities back then. There's no telling if an adult would have handled it differently anyway, roads were bad then too. 
They would  would just tar the road, throw gravel down, and let the cars run the gravel into the tar. It created for less traction than we have today. 
The tires slipped on the gravel, and he slid right into her. Wrapped the car around the street lamp. Pinned her, on her bike... 
I'm sorry... 
Pinned her on her bike between the car's side and the street lamp. The kid driver was thrown through the windshield. The passenger, 15, went to the ER, but he lived. It was such a tragedy. For both families. I still get a card from Eddie, the survivor, every year. In August. 
My mom's name was Gwen Ashland (McGee was her maiden name). She died in 1985 from cancer, I was just 16 at the time. After that, with no living relatives left, I moved in with Jim Smith.
I'm sorry to hear that. You're life... it was a very hard life growing up. I know this is a sensitive topic for you. Let me give you  a moment. How about we switch to a lighter topic.

What does your name mean, and why did you parents choose it?


Theron is originally a Greek name. It means hunter. In English it's means Untamed. It's played well into my life hunting down terrorist cells around the world, and... removing them from the field. 
Ashland is my family name. As far as we know my family came to the USA in the early 1800's and settled around TN. My great grandparents wanted to move out to the west, and they'd heard how green and beautiful the state of Oregon was.
They caught wind that a town had been established by the name of Ashland, and they thought it was a "Sign" from God. So they moved. We had been settled in the town every since. That is... until now. I guess I'm the last Ashland from my line still in Ashland OR.

Is there anything interesting or important or unusual we need to know about your family?


Besides my parents death's when I was young? Not that I know of at this time.

What was your relationship like with your Mother? Father? Others?


I barely knew my father, but I loved him when I was young. My mom worked two jobs to keep my sister and I taken care of. It's probably the stress that eventually did her in. But she was warm, and funny. She loved to laugh. She rarely had a harsh word to say. I loved her very much. 
My sister and I were inseparable until she died. That's probably why I latched onto Eta as my partner at the ISR, she reminded my of my sister. Fiesty, full of spirit. She would get her way, or you'd hear it. 


Early Childhood through middle school

What experiences, growing up, marked your memory? In other words, what can you remember about your childhood, what stands out?


I don't remember much. I was in boy scouts, school sports, the usual stuff through middle school. Growing up without a dad was hard, but I managed. Most of the good times were erased with the passing of my mother and sister within a year of each other. So... I just try not to think about the past.

Who were your best friends?


I would not say that I ever had best friends. I had friends, plenty. People that came to the house, played games, etc. I managed to find myself in various groups growing up. But friends? That just feels too strong a word for them... they were... acquaintances. 


Worst enemies, bullies?


No bullies in my life. There were a few who tried to bully my kid sister now and then, but when they learned I was there, they left her alone. I always saw myself as the protector of the other kids from bullies. I was naturally fast and strong. I rarely had an ounce of fat on me, even as a baby. That made it hard to get bullied. 



What was your best day? Worst?

Goes without mentioning. My worst days were the loss of my family. 

My best day... I'll have to let you know when I have it.


Alternate info


1. Innocuous, blend in to the crowd, disappear, but look a little cool while doing it.
2. His ways are set, until he is forced into hiding, when he must make changes to his look.
1. Marksman, best shooter with hand gun or rifle in the USAF, several years in a row, before taking missions that would not allow him to compete. Now that he's retired, he still shoots on the ranges.
1. Avid Reader
2. Despite his hard exterior, he much prefers to think through an issue, than bulldoze into it. He's reading allows him to stretch his mind so that he can appear to be acting fast, when he's really taking in every aspect of a situation, and making an informed decision.

Alternate Version of sisters' death
1. The Accident of 1984: When Ash was 16, he was driving the farm truck with a girlfriend, and his sister was in the back of the cab. He was driving too fast through the small town streets, and the gravel of the new road was loose. He hit the curve too hard, slide sideways and wrapped the truck around a power pole. The girlfriend (Holly Beady - 15), and his sister (Jeannie Ashland - 12) were killed instantly. Ash was taken to a nearby hospital unconscious, but with no life threatening injuries.
2. Formative:  He felt that it was that day that broke his Mom's heart, which led to her death a year later, and made him swear that he was only good for destruction, and that but that he would use that destruction to protect and serve.
E. Conflicts
1. Inner Conflicts:
1) I'm only good for destruction.
2) I want to serve, protect, and prevent.
2. Outer Conflicts
1) Victim of a Mysterious Experiment.
2) Wants to avoid people
3) Gets sucked into a situation where he's called to serve and protect.







Here are some photos that remind me of you:

















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By Darrell Wolfe

Storyteller, Creative, INFJ, Intellection, Ideation, Input, Learner, Achiever

* I may include "Affiliate Links" which means I earn a commission when you buy some of the products I link to. 


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Waqas - A Scene - Rough Draft


So if you happen to be a subscriber, you may have noticed I haven't posted in a while. There are two reasons.


  • One, I'm just too dang busy. I've been working 55 hours weeks for over a year. That's starting to slow down. 
  • Two, I've been pouring my free time into fiction. But the White Noise posts took on such a life of their own I had to start organizing them and see if there was a book there. 

As it turns out, there IS a book there. I'm about a quarter done now. I learned that posting here is a good place to get things started, save ideas for later, hash out other ideas, or just plain practice. 

However, if you are going to seriously write, keep track of story archs and characters and settings and "where am i?", you'll need to get more organized than a blog can afford. That being said, I don't want to copy paste every chapter I've rough drafted, it's just too much work. 

I have decided to share some with you though. I'm also going to start posting (and continuously editing) Character Bios. Not only is this fun, but I can build on them over time, and start using them in future books. 

Without further ado, my latest scene in it's rough draft form:



***

The costumed men and women were dancing through the streets. A Snoopy Balloon passed by at her level, 100’s of feet above the crowds. Gift Boxes, the size of houses, followed. She could see dear old Santa at the end, rounding the corner.

A new element appeared. A young man, holding a remote control. He and his father were wearing Santa hats, and fake white beards. She followed their gaze toward a small Unmanned Arial Vehicle. It was shaped like the Millennium falcon, but she could see cameras attached to it. They were apparently trying to get a better glimpse of the parade. It flew in an out of the balloons.

That’s when she noticed that they seemed to be avoiding the television cameras, and security stations. Quite expertly in fact. It was odd, these visions, she could see near and far at the same time without obscuring either set of images. The pair were not smiling, like the rest of the crowd. They were not pointing and laughing at the parade floats. The father was whispering in the son’s ear, and the son was intent on following the path of his UAV.

The toy plane made its way up and over the last set of balloons, and then down toward Santa, nearly knocking him off his pedestal. He looked more annoyed that frightened. It swooped back up to the last balloon, and under.

Eta willed herself to float down for a better look. As it approached the underside, a small package fixed to the vinyl started to emit a red light.

Wait… no. The red light wasn’t coming from the package, it was coming from somewhere else. The UAV. A metal point was on the front end of the UAV and attached to it was a laser pointer. The kind you might find at Dollar Tree. It was flying straight up now, 90 degrees, at full speed. The red dot fixed directly at the middle of the box.

Impact.

She’d come to expect what was next.

First the flash…

…then the percussion against her chest…

…then the sound of explosion.

She was hurled through the sky half way across the city. The devastation was enormous. Whole buildings collapsed. People that had not been crushed were running from the scene. But it would do no good. The air was windy, and an orange cloud wafted in all directions. The runners were dropping dead within feet, some within blocks.

Walking, nearly oblivious to the commotion, through the dust were a father and son. Wearing gas masks. They loaded hopped onto a parked motorcycle, on a side street. And headed into the city, and they were gone.

Eta could see the kid smile, raise his fingers to the sky, and toss the Santa hat and beard to the wind.
She watched as the costume floated through the air, landing on a body nearby.

***

Eta woke. The dream, night after night. She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling for a few moments. Knowing that sleep would not soon return, she got up and walked to the window. She opened it and let the cool air rush over her. It almost reminded her of home.

She couldn't get the image of Santa out of her head. She always thought that a white Santa was odd.

“Everyone knows that Santa was a dark skinned Russian.” Her Mamochka would start the heated, good natured debate with Da’.  
“No dear,” Da’ would counter. “He was an Irishman, plain as the nose on your face.”

And on the debate would run. Reindeer? Please. Not these brown skinny things in American cartoons. He used large chested white Reindeer, with long pointed antlers, like tree branches with no leaves.

That’s the Santa her Mamochka taught her about.

Of course, there is no Santa… no elves, no fairies, no Jesus, no Mohamed, no Buddha. All trappings of religious non-sense to keep ignorant people in line, and full of pointless hope. And when those ignorant people got too far out of line, they sent in Eta to put them down. Well… they used to, until she got broken.

“So…” She broke the silence. Considering the conversation earlier that night. “I’m not just broken… I’m also a failed experiment. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Her voice fell deaf on the evening breeze.

Images of her parents, when they were alive. Christmas with family and friends. Like it should be. Presents, not many, too poor. But they would come up with something every Christmas, despite themselves. And then her life changed.

“America?” She said one day. “Really? We’re going to America?”

All she’d ever known was the temperate town of Letterkenny, County Donegal, Ireland. Her mother fled to Ireland during World War 2, when the Russians were working loosely with the westerners.

She got her chance to leave as a “Volunteer Field Nurse”. She managed to claim asylum in newly formed Republic of Ireland, who had been sitting out the war as a neutral party. The Irish were sympathetic to her cause, as they too were under pressure constant pressure to roll over and accept the so called “United Kingdom”.

That’s where she met her Irish lover, a man after her own heart. They thought that kids were not in their cards, until she got pregnant in her mid 40’s. Her parents were older than the other kid’s parents, but she didn’t mind. It made her special. At least, that’s what she was told growing up.

At 10 years old, in 1976, her father, frightened by the escalating violence and the Kingsmill Massacre, decided to leave. He took his wife and daughter to start over in America. That’s when it all fell apart. He worked two jobs, with no family to fall back on, and died of a heart attack before she turned 16. Her mother died a year later of pneumonia, probably compounded by grief. By 18 she was the ridicule of school with the oddest of odd accents, and she didn’t fit anywhere. Then she was left to fend for herself.

“Not to worry,” a friend told her. “The military takes freaks like you all the time.”

And with a 99 on the ASVAB, she could do anything she wanted. She found a job in intelligence, and
worked her way up the ranks. Which led her to today… a total mess.

Eta brushed off the past, and tried to remember the new elements of her dream.

She could still see the face of the young man with the remote, the father not so much.

One word popped into her head. It sounded so funny. She said it out loud.

“Waqas”

She rolled it onto her tongue, and repeated it over and over. She found the word instantly amusing, but sad at the same time.

She let the images of the dream, and her childhood Christmas battle each other for another hour, looking out the window into the night sky. Eventually she felt a yawn come on, stretching the back of her throat. That was a good sign that the dream was wearing off, and she could head back to bed.

The covers swallowed her, like an ocean. An ocean island…


***
End




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By Darrell Wolfe

Storyteller, Creative, INFJ, Intellection, Ideation, Input, Learner, Achiever

* I may include "Affiliate Links" which means I earn a commission when you buy some of the products I link to. 

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It's Author Fun By Darrell Wolfe

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Practice Session

I hate green grass. It always needs to be mowed. With it comes the sneezing and itching. Then with the green comes heat, enemy number 2.

Why can't it be fall and winter all the time, all year round?

The thoughts swirled in his head like clouds, as he was trying to think of something to write during his practice session.

So he wrote this... then he got up, made food, and went to work. Sweater Weather can't come soon enough!
Read more ...

The Power eats you when used selfishly. But empow...

The Power eats you when used selfishly. But empowers you when used for others.
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The God Frequency




Research:

People are talking about their ideas on "The God Frequency". Interesting fiction fodder.

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The 6 Tones Of Creation (God's Healing Frequencies)

Published on Dec 24, 2013
http://youarecreators.org/ We (YouAreCreators) created this channel to share one of the greatest secrets of the universe, and the secret is, we literally create our reality! (Quantum Physics now proves this) We are all governed by a set of Universal Laws, and these laws were created by GOD, to aid us in creating the life we desire. One of these laws is known as the "Law Of Attraction", or the law of "Reaping and Sowing". This law simply states, whatever you give out in Thought, Word, Feeling, and Action is returned to you. Whether the return is negative, or positive, failure or success, is all up to what you give out. Many authors and celebrities such as, Wayne Dyer, Oprah Winfrey, Will Smith, Jim Carrey, Steve Harvey, Rhonda Byrne, and many others has testified to this amazing Law Of Attraction. Its time you learn this wonderful secret...

Sleep or meditate with these frequencies playing.
These Solfeggio frequencies make up the sacred Solfeggio scale:
UT -- 396 Hz
Intent: turning grief into joy, liberating guilt & fear
This frequency liberates the energy and has beneficial effects on feelings of guilt. It cleanses the feeling of guilt, which often represents one of the basic obstacles to realization, enabling achievement of goals in the most direct way. The 'Ut' tone releases you from the feeling of guilt and fear by bringing down the defense mechanisms. 396 Hz frequency searches out hidden blockages, subconscious negative beliefs, and ideas that have led to your present situations.
RE -- 417 Hz
Intent: undoing situations and facilitating change
The next main tone from the Solfeggio scale produces energy to bring about change. This frequency cleanses traumatic experiences and clears destructive influences of past events. When speaking of cellular processes, tone 'Re' encourages the cell and its functions in an optimal way. 417 Hz frequency puts you in touch with an inexhaustible source of energy that allows you to change your life.
MI -- 528 Hz
Intent: transformation and miracles (DNA repair)
Tone 'Mi' is used to return human DNA to its original, perfect state. This frequency brings transformation and miracles into your life. The process of DNA reparation is followed by beneficial effects -- increased amount of life energy, clarity of mind, awareness, awakened or activated creativity, ecstatic states like deep inner peace, dance and celebration. Tone 'Mi' activates your imagination, intention and intuition to operate for your highest and best purpose.
FA -- 639 Hz
Intent: re-connecting and balancing, relationships
Another frequency from the sacred Solfeggio scale. It enables creation of harmonious community and harmonious interpersonal relationships. Tone 'Fa' can be used for dealing with relationships problems -- those in family, between partners, friends or social problems. When talking about cellular processes, 639 Hz frequency can be used to encourage the cell to communicate with its environment. This ancient Solfeggio frequency enhances communication, understanding, tolerance and love.
SOL -- 741 Hz
Intent: solving problems, expressions/solutions
It cleans the cell ("Solve polluti") from the toxins. Frequent use of 741 Hz leads to a healthier, simpler life, and also to changes in diet towards foods which are not poisoned by various kinds of toxins. Tone 'Sol' cleans the cell from different kinds of electromagnetic radiations. Another application of this sound frequency is solving problems of any nature. The fifth frequency of the Solfeggio scale will also lead you into the power of self-expression, which results in a pure and stable life.




The Frequency and Sound of God = 528 Hertz ~ by Zeph Daniel



528 Hz | Miracle Tone




Ancient Miracle Music: Solfeggio 528 Hz, Repair DNA, Healing tones of love
According to Dr. Leonard Horowitz, 528 Hertz is a frequency that is central to the “musical mathematical matrix of creation.” 




The first time Ivan Yanakiev heard an instrument tuned to 432 Hertz, he says, it was like he’d heard God speak.



Dr. Leonard G. Horowitz (Dr Len Horowitz) is the world’s most prolific, best credential, and most controversial drug industry whistleblower.


HA HA HA HA!.... Seriously? This man is FULL of himself. He has demonic written all over him.



 Quantum Musicology™ is a new medium using the universal principal of music.
Music has always been the centre of true communication through the sensation of tone and metaphysical experience.
I have combined a lifetime of research and experience into a masterful modality which incorporates astrology, numerology, music and mathematics with the use of time, space, rhythm, colour and tempo.



Theta Binaural Beat (7hz) ~ Pure



Nicola Tesla, the Croatian born inventor, had performed experiments at the turn of the century that revealed that air, at its ordinary pressure, is a conductor for large amounts of electrical energy over great distances without wires. This meant a few things: That electrical use for the purposes of man would be available at any place on the globe. And that electricity traveling through the air shows how frequencies and waves of powerful energy do not need wires to be generated at one place and received in another. Furthermore, it is of the opinion of some that the mathematics that provide the underpinning for Tesla's work also provides the basis for understanding telepathy. This suggests the openings of vast potentials for the human mind.


However, in the late 1970s, there was widespread cattle deaths in Oregon. It was determined by research that the cattle had been killed by adverse ELF radio frequency transmissions from the Russians. It seems that man is a bio-cosmic transducer, a transmitter and receiver as well, and that somehow our brain waves can lock on and modulate with the earth's electromagnetic field, the Universal Magnetic Field (UMF), as Tesla called it. Research has shown that altering these electro magnetic fields can influence the brain waves of cats and monkeys. Humans are also affected.


Researchers have found that frequencies under seven hertz create a general feeling of relaxation and well being, known as the alpha state. The most beneficial frequency on earth is said to be the 6.8 hertz frequency. Interestingly, the Pyramid at Giza has a constant frequency of 6.8 hertz running through it. Although researchers have studied it, they don't know where it comes from or why in such an ancient structure.


Thus, by absorbing one's consciousness in the sound vibration of these names of God, it will do several things, such as alter and improve the electrical impulses that are generated by the body, and help defend oneself from the negative impulses that one may encounter. In this way, it helps create a peaceful attitude within the individual and a healthier disposition. It also prepares one's consciousness for perceiving higher levels of reality, opens one up to the spiritual world, gradually reveals one's true spiritual identity, which would also allow one to see the unity between all people. It also harmonizes one's existence with nature, and even begins to rekindle one's real relationship with the Supreme Soul, God. Once the higher vibration of the spiritual realm is invoked on a regular basis in this way, and is opened for its use among the people in general, the chances for world change become enormous.









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Dark Elf | Out of the Shadows


As the tablet's glow grew to life, an image appeared. On the image of a full moon, two torches crossed paths at the top, over the scales of justice below. The torches were made of gold, but held black and white flames. Upon the gold scales sat two weights named Adrasteia and Hekate .

Dark Elf entered his password, and the screens around the room booted to life. As he checked his monitors he was able to observe 1000's of cameras from around the world, but front and center were his prime monitors. From here he could see his entire operation.

Anonymous served it's purpose, now it was time to come out of the shadows. It was amazing how much could be accomplished through some keystrokes and well placed religious bull. Dark Elf roamed the dark net, smirking periodically at Hacker Aliases like "HellRazzer567". Really? That's the best you could come up with. Children. It was time to establish his own ID. Something to set him apart from his Anonymous friends. Dark Elf would do nicely. It was simple enough to remember, innocuous enough to be tracked to 100's of other individuals.

So far the instructions of his masters had paid dividends many times over. He was rich, powerful, and operated from the shadows. Just levitate a few chairs and the powerless will flock to you as though you had all the answers.

The Islamist Extremists were so easy to manipulate too. It was astonishing how easy it was to get some bearded scarf wearer to bomb a building by hacking their website and posting the challenge. These people were not any smarter than these looser addicts that were constantly doing his bidding at his hotel.

The great Dr. Briar was becoming a nuisance, but he was assured that he still served a purpose. He had a few ideas about what to do when that purpose was complete. Hiring a man to play the part of wealthy contributor? 100,000 dollars. The look on his face when he got the texts? Priceless.

What a moron.

Meanwhile, it was nice to be king. Lord rather. Lord Dark Elf. It had a nice ring to it, eh?

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Greek gods... study research








http://www.rickriordan.com/books/percy-jacksons-world/resources/explore-greek-mythology/meet-the-greek-gods


Hecate: goddess of magic and ghosts.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hecate

Hecate or Hekate (/ˈhɛkətiː, ˈhɛkɪt/; Greek Ἑκάτη, Hekátē) is a goddess in Greek religion and mythology, most often shown holding two torches or a key[1] and in later periods depicted in triple form. She was variously associated with crossroads, entrance-ways, dogs, light, the moon, magic, witchcraft, knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants, ghosts, necromancy, and sorcery.[2][3] In the post-Christian writings of the Chaldean Oracles (2nd-3rd century CE) she was regarded with (some) rulership over earth, sea and sky, as well as a more universal role as Saviour (Soteira), Mother of Angels and the Cosmic World Soul.[4][5] She was one of the main deities worshiped in Athenian households as a protective goddess and one who bestowed prosperity and daily blessings on the family.[6]
Hecate may have originated among the Carians of Anatolia, where variants of her name are found as names given to children. William Berg observes, "Since children are not called after spooks, it is safe to assume that Carian theophoric names involving hekat-refer to a major deity free from the dark and unsavoury ties to the underworld and to witchcraft associated with the Hecate of classical Athens."[7] She also closely parallels the Roman goddess Trivia, with whom she was identified in Rome.



https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trivia_(mythology)

Trivia in Roman mythology was the goddess who "haunted crossroads, graveyards, and was the goddess of sorcery and witchcraft, she wandered about at night and was seen only by the barking of dogs who told of her approach."[1] She was the equivalent of the Greek goddess Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft, the three-way crossroads and the harvest moon.[2] She was an underworld Titan-goddess who assisted Jove in the Titanomachy and was therefore able to keep her powers. She was a friend of Ceres and helped her to find her daughter Proserpina. As a part of her role as an underworld goddess, she was known as the Queen of Ghosts. Although she helped Ceres to find her daughter, she was also known to steal young maidens to assist her in her powers. These women later became nymphs.
Her association for Romans of the first century BCE with Artemis was so thorough that Lucretius[3] identifies the altar of the goddess at the sacrifice of Iphianassa (Iphigeneia) in Aulis as Triviai virginis aram.


Nemesis, judge jury and executioner

In ancient Greek religion, Nemesis (/ˈnɛməsɪs/; Greek: Νέμεσις), also called Rhamnousia/Rhamnusia ("the goddess of Rhamnous") at her sanctuary at Rhamnous, north of Marathon, was the spirit of divine retribution against those who succumb to hubris (arrogance before the gods). Another name was Adrasteia, meaning "the inescapable."[1]

Etymology[edit]

The name Nemesis is related to the Greek word νέμειν némein, meaning "to give what is due",[2] from Proto-Indo-European nem- "distribute".[3]

Background[edit]

Divine retribution is a major theme in the Hellenic world view, providing the unifying theme of the tragedies of Sophocles and many other literary works.[4][5] Hesiod states: "Also deadly Nyx bore Nemesis an affliction to mortals subject to death." (Theogony, 223, though perhaps an interpolated line). Nemesis appears in a still more concrete form in a fragment of the epic Cypria.


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Greek_mythological_figures


Zues (Greek) -  Jupiter (Roman), also known as Jove.

He was the god of the gods, father of them Satan would have chosen this for himself.

Note the similarities between the propagation of the gods in Greek mythology, and the propagation of angels in Gen 5-6.



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Ash at the Facility

The silence was deafening. The light was still too bright to open his eyes. But the sound was familiar.

I know this place...

The dream again. He could feel the cold steel against his wrists. This was knew. He didn't recall being locked to the chair in his dream. Then he heard it... click. click. click. A clock? This was not his dream.

Ash forced his eyes open to see a room very similar to one from his dream. Only this one was longer, the table was at one end. And there was a single analogue clock on the wall. This room had a pronounced and obvious door.

"Oh good... you are awake. I'll be with you in a just little while."

That voice. I know that voice.

Ash took in his souroundings. Nothing much to see. Nothing but white walls, white chair, white table, white clock. Silver Handcuffs on his wrists. The chair was built into the floor it didn't budge.

No silly outfit this time, he was simply wearing his black clothing from the night before. Blood had dried on his sleave where the gaurd got a good kick with his boot. It looked like their patched him up, maybe a few stitches in the shoulder.

Ash noticed four cameras, one in each corner. Just then the white noise was interupted by a crackling, and then a whine.

"Ash, can you hear me?" He nodded in the affirmative.

"Ash, you can talk, we can see you on the cameras, and there are no gaurds outside the door. I've looped the audio and video, so they can't see or hear you right now."

"OK, what's going on?"

"You are in the facility still. Thirteenth Floor. I'm in control of the security, but I can't do anything about those cuffs."

"It's OK. I want to play this out, and see where it leads. Don't let them catch you in the feeds. Watch, but don't jump in until I give you a signal."

"What signal?"

"Is Eta with you?"

"Yes, I'm right here."

"She'll know. Just have her watch the feeds with you."

"Going radio silent, someones coming." Eta's voice. He really missed her as a partner. It's good to have her around, even from a distance. That's why he knew he had to give her time for escape, and let himself get caught... taking as many down with him as he could.

The door opened, and in walked a small bald man in a lab coat. Dr. Briar, from the Cafe'.

"Good morning Col Ashland. It's nice to have you back among us. You took a pretty nasty fall last night, and put three of my gaurds in the hospital."

"Glad I could help." Ash Smiled.

Dr. Briar returned the smile. "It seems you and I have some unfinished business. As soon as we track down your friend, we'll have questions for her too. My best head hunters are looking for her now. Tell me, Col Ashland, how much do you remember about me?"

"You are a Dr. Briar, who mistakenly called me a marine. You asked too many wierd questions outside of the cafe in Oregon, and you smell like peppermint candy."

"Yes, all true. But how about before that time at the cafe, is there anything else you remember about me?"

"No. Should there be?"

"We shall see. Dr Briar pulled out some wires and pads. While you were out, you were injected with a serium of my own design. It will help you be more forth coming. I'm simply going to attach these to you for monitoring. We tried putting them on while you were out, but you kept sweating them off.... Tell me, Col. Ashland, how long have you been having these nightmares?"

"Are you my psychologist now?

"Now? Col Ashland, I've been your psychologist for quite a few years, you should know that by now."

"I just get bad dreams. Nothing to worry yourself about there Dr., what do you mean a few years?"

"Col Ashland, how often must we go through this same routine. You have been a patient here since you had a mental break and left the USAF."


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The Closet

It was the sound. It washed over his mind, like a shower on the inside. Water landing on pavement, concrete, and wood; as though beating a million tiny drums. The distant sound of the tiny river, washing down the sidewalks into the gutters. Ash always slept with the window open, but most especially on rainy nights.

We are no closer now to getting to the bottom of this, than we were when it started.

The rest of the house was asleep, but he couldn't find sleep. The air shifted slightly, and he felt he wasn't alone. Ash sat up straight, and at the edge of his bed sat a man. He was wearing blue jeans, a T-shirt, and a well kept beard. His hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and he smiled. The man's eyes held a piercing gaze, frightening and peaceful all at once.

The man stood, and motioned to Ash. Almost unable to fight his own body, he rose to follow the man to the closet door. He reached out to open it, and a blinding light raced across the room. When Ash opened his eyes again, they were not in his room anymore. They were standing on a rooftop, overlooking New York City, and Herald Square.

There, sitting on the ledge was a young man, maybe no more than 20. He was holding himself, rocking himself back and forth.

It'll all be over soon. It'll all be over soon. He repeated to himself over and over.

Ash could see the Parade balloons in the distance. He knew this is what Eta had been talking about. Ash wanted to go stop him, but he couldn't move. His traveling companion put his arm on Ash's shoulder and smiled. He could feel the answer.

Not Now.

The bright light flashed, and he found himself standing in front of his open closet, staring at the darkness. Ash turned back to his bed, and lay there for a few more hours. Sleep overcame him, and he rested. For the first time in a long time, confused, but peaceful, he rested.















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