The City of Irvine, CA.
The official Subreddit for the Village of Washingtonville New York. Located in Orange County New York
Rob Norquist, a real estate agent admits that Newport Beach is as active as it used to be, with some good record sales. He also agrees with the fact that a property, should never be considered deprecated, and as a seller, you should never give up and use the low end price. It is true that, during a certain period of time, depending on the real estate market, client's desire, real estate auctions, there may be moments when a property's price drops, but not forever.
Other cities such as, Huntington Beach, Costa Mesa, Irvine or Mission Viejo - are considered among other 25 cities as being the ones with the best real estate property values, with average values of $680,000 and more. The national average value in 2007 was $194,300.
However, some property values are based on subjective answers from residents living in a certain home, so the given numbers , and real estate evaluation may be hanging on a wishful thinking instead of a real appreciation . This is where real estate auctions come in picture, to inform potential clients about the property, and the investment possibilities, giving them a clear image of the real estate's worth.
Even though some buildings such as Orange County properties , dropped their values in 2007, but they recovered extremely well after. So this is another reason why as a seller, you should never fear if you observe a temporally value drop, because it is normal from time to time.
For instance, about 81% owners, sellers, agents, trusted in 2007 that their estate property values were over $1 million, against 75% in 2006. So things are for the best and it would appear that most of estate agents have finally understood what this business is really about. It takes a lot of patience and ability to maintain your property's value among top ones on real estate market. But Norquist, trusts that many Newport Beach arguments are near the mark, sustaining that this city has survived the "housing slump" better than other locations. However, the unexpected surprise attacked more on sales, which he admits that they are on a falling edge right now, but there is still hope for better times.
Newport Beach is very well known for its highest-valued real estate properties in the U.S., being a perfect place for real estate business . It's location and proximity to the water, and the beach front view increase it's real estate value considerably. Auctions in this area are very interesting and those who are interested in real estate business domain should never miss them. You can learn a lot on such events.
Experienced real estate agents or even friends will surely advise you that as a buyer you are very likely to come across many real estate properties in foreclosure having perhaps no equity,being over priced . In such moments, lenders sometimes choose to accept a smaller amount than the initial.So you get in the negotiations process. As a hint, when you realize the over pricing phenomenon, you have to understand that this happens when the real estate agent , or seller is aware of the real estate property's value, and he tries his luck in a raising price. So watch out! The negotiation can become a difficult process especially when reasonable terms are not agreed by both sides: owner and buyer. Negotiations can occur privately or in public, where real estate auctions come in the picture. Of course, a real estate auction is safer and more trustful than a private one. Private negotiations occur especially when the agent is a close friend or relative to buyer's, and because of the friendly environment some details regarding even the real estate transaction may be skipped. So in situations like this be careful.
Even as a friend, for a real estate agent , money comes first, and friendship after. Of course, during such a negotiation, there can be all sort of problems, such as mortgage value, real estate playa del carmen mexico real estate for sale
, all sort of official formalities, conflict of interests in a particular area etc. Moreover, time a very important issue when real estate auctions are involved. As a general rule, and as an advise for a potential buyer, negotiation process should not be extended on a long period of time, because, as I said before, in time, real estate properties drop their values, and the client's interest together with it. In this case, not only does the buyer loose, but the real estate agency as well. Why?Because if a property's value drops, the price must drop as well, if you ever want to sell it again. In this case the under priced phenomenon appears. This is why short sales are preferred. Many Realtors, and clients started using this strategy, because they faced the problem regarding their property's value.So they decided the selling process should not take too long.
I am trying to compose an email to someone who works at the local chamber of commerce to ask if they’d be willing to meet for an informational interview. I have only met them once previously, but we hit it off quite well and she told me to reach out to her whenever. I’d love some feedback on the email content + it’s formality.
My name is __, and I am a junior at _____ High School. I do not know if you remember me, but we met during the Career Fair at ________ High School a few months ago, where we talked briefly about my interest in Political Science.
I am hoping you might have 15 to 30 minutes to meet with me sometime in the coming weeks. I would greatly appreciate an opportunity to ask some questions about your experience majoring in Political Science that I did not get the chance to ask at the event. Please let me know if this might be possible and what dates and times are most convenient for you.
I look forward to hearing back from you.
Phone: () _ - ____
Amid a galaxy of brutal chaos there are stories to be told, tales of valor and justice, of fear and despair. But amid these stories are the guttering flames of adventures untold, the potential for a universe of entertainment and savage joyous fun. The Oblivion Cycle embodies just this kind of crafted chaos, creating the potential for creative exploits and raucous tales. If you are new to the TOC setting feel free to join the community at TheOblivionCycle
to check out some of the background lore or to discuss themes with other readers. I thank you all for your support and continued willingness to read, as always, Please Enjoy!
+ Next Part +
A dark planet turned slowly in the void bathed in the light of an old yellow star far past its prime. The planet was old, unlike the countless beings that scurried across its blasted surface. From the vantage point of space far above, the gigantic craters that covered its surface were painfully apparent. Some terrible bombardment had nearly torn the planet in two sometime in its ancient history.
These were the thoughts foremost on the mind of the vast entity that observed the world from the depths of a large misshapen ship of truly gargantuan proportions. The ship orbited the planet far enough away to be unseen, a truly difficult task due to its almost moon-like size.
Deep in the ship’s core, a consciousness woke fully. This being had slumbered for millennia as they waited for the ship’s more automated systems to bring them to something interesting. As they awoke this entity checked the ships logs, two thousand years of reports were absorbed and compiled in mere millincrements such was the being’s incredible processing power.
They stretched mentally, running their consciousness throughout every lesser ten of the ship's millions of greater tens of circuits and wires. It had been centuries since they had last woken for more than a few increments, it was a good feeling.
The ship’s computer communicated with them. “Master Neel, It is good to have you with us.” the computer said nonverbally. The communication happening instead as a base impression across his many connections to the system all at once.
Neel observed the planet remotely using some of the vast worldship's many external sensors. After a few moments of observation Neel inquired the computer. “Have we traveled to this planet before?”
The computer replied quickly “I do not believe so, it bears passing resemblance to a planet we visited in the far past. But it can't be the same planet.” the computer concluded.
Neel frowned and then decided to exit his stasis chamber. The heavily shielded inner sanctum of the ship was a mess of electrical conduits and databanks that held his vast intellect when the ship was underway. Using faster than light means of propulsion could damage many of the curiosities in his vast collection and so for many tens of millions of greater increments he had traveled the cosmos slower than the speed of light.
While slow it was a deliberate action to protect him from the watchful eyes of the obliterators. The destroyers commonly kept watch over the cosmos and were known to eliminate those they could not contain or control. Neel had no wish to be destroyed and so took their time getting around for the sake of stealth. Even the destroyers would be unlikely to detect a single ship not breaking the natural laws in a vast and ever expanding universe.
Disengaging their mental locks, Neel disconnected from the artificial sanctuary and into their physical vessel. Their vessel was an artificial body of sorts, fashioned in a form that Neel found pleasing.
Their vessel was very tall with six manipulating tentacle-like metal arms and a multitude of pointed insect-like legs. Their face was a mess of tubes and wires with no discernible features other than the five bright green glowing eyes that stared out at the world around them intensely.
Neel’s consciousness settled down into the large body like it was a comfortable bed, an electronic sigh passing through them as they disconnected from the ship.
Neel started their vessel’s internal vacuum generators. Devices of their own design that drew electrical power directly from the quantum fluctuations of the universe. Quite a simple thing really, they must seem remarkable to those not nearly as versed as them in the nature of the universe. But Neel was well versed indeed, they knew the purpose of it all, and the dark knowledge often made them wish they had never discovered it.
Turning their attention back to their muted surroundings Neel activated the bridge’s lights with a thought. The ship was a part of them, though simultaneously separate. Together they made a complete entity, though Neel admitted that it was sometimes less distracting to be on their own instead of bonded to the Preserver. That was the name he had chosen for his worldship upon its completion. He had no memories of the event, or of how it had been built. Neither did the Preserver, instead Neel’s earliest coherent memory was that of light. Blinding light.
A star exploding and the ship jumping into emergency compression drive to escape the blast. They had arrived many light years away damaged and broken from the violent energies that had lashed the ship. But they had survived.
Neel scuttled across the deck and to one of the automated steering consoles. They double checked the ship’s course for accuracy and were satisfied to see no inherent issues.
Next they walked though the ship for a time to get to the records hall. They could have zipped there almost instantly with a thought, but they had always enjoyed the action of taking their time. They had a nearly infinite amount of it after all.
The Preserver chimed at them as they walked. “If you are going to the records hall to check the data I can give you access here and save you the trouble Master Neel.” The disembodied voice said in a modulated tone and frequency.
Neel waved a series of arms towards one of the many wall mounted sensors that the ship used to see and replied “Why? What would be the purpose of walking if not to enjoy the walk. I know you could have forwarded the data to me directly on the bridge, but there is a simplistic pleasure to taking one’s time. How many times have I told you that old friend.”
The ship was silent for a few increments as Neel scuttled down dimly lit metal passageways and through dusty hatches. They shook their head in a strange yet familiar motion as they took in the state of the ship. It was dirty, grimy almost.
Neel paused by a strange bundle of filaments and tested them with a single flexible manipulator digit. Plucking them curiously Neel found they seemed to be organic. In fact as they touched them they noticed a small and curious creature skuttle out of the dark in the direction of the disturbance. Delighted at this new and fascinating discovery they coaxed the small creature out into the light.
They observed it closely, zooming in on its features while scanning it in multiple electromagnetic spectrums. Neel found that the creature seemed to fluoresce in the ultraviolet spectrum, its small body covered in swirling organic patterns. It must be able to see into the ultraviolet spectrum Neel mused, otherwise what possible purpose could such patterning serve?
Reaching into a recess in their body they produced a specimen stasis capsule. Carefully scooping up the creature, they activated the micro stasis field generator and the small curiosity seemed to freeze in place. Replacing the container they then turned and continued along the corridor making a mental note to return and analyze the filaments more closely at a future time.
It took a little longer than Neel remembered to reach the great library, which made sense as the Preserver was constantly in flux. They entered the room and slowed to a halt. It always hit them when they entered into the massive space for the first time after a lengthy hibernation. The room was lit with bright yellowish lights high in the cavernous ceiling. The walls were covered in shelves and databanks, not a single square length was bare of some form of data storage medium.
Neel walked in amongst the towering shelves and ran their fingers along the uncountable thousands of books, manuscripts, scrolls and data crystals stored within small stasis cabinets. Hidden inside this sanctum was Neel’s life’s work, the compiled data of tens of thousands of worlds, millions of species and a billion years of searching the universe for something more.
Sometimes when the ship was traveling the void between stars Neel would come and spend years here, just absorbing the ancient knowledge. But today they were looking for something specific. Moving along to one of the many wall mounted dataports, they inserted a spike like digit from the end of a flexible tendril. The full enormity of the vast library exploded into their conscious mind, only their prodigious intelligence keeping them from being overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of data.
Searching for a while they found the folder they were looking for and accessed its location. Neel was in luck, it was remote accessible meaning they wouldn't have to traverse kilometers of this labyrinth to find the data. While that was usually an enjoyable experience, Neel found that their curiosity was overwhelming their patience.
The data filled their mind and Neel saw a planet spinning tranquilly in their mind's eye. The planet that bore a striking similarity to the one they now orbited, in fact, comparing the star logs and accounting for drift, the constellations were the same too. That proved it, they were in fact in the orbit of Ixninth, the evolutionary homeworld of the peaceful humbub.
Neel cocked their head, that was odd. The last time they had been in contact with the humbub their planet was nearing a full scale type one civilization. Full planetary control was theirs and they had taken the first tentative steps out into their solar system with a few far flung colonies and outposts in the orbit of the outer planets.
Now there was nothing, no evidence of the star realm they had once ruled. Something must have happened while Neel had been traveling through the cosmos. Something no doubt related to the strange crater-like formations on the planet’s surface.
Neel scanned the other planets in the system and found that most bore evidence of similar impacts, a few of the smaller moons seemed to have been obliterated entirely. Just the drifting charred remains in orbit of their scarred planets.
They addressed the computer once more verbally. “Preserver, we have indeed visited this system before. It is the humbub’s home system.”
The ship spoke through their implant, the disembodied voice cool and calm while it discussed topics of annihilation. “It would seem some sort of natural cataclysm must have befallen them then. There is evidence of incredible kinetic bombardment. Perhaps a rogue black hole disrupted the outer debris fields?’ the computer speculated blandly.
Neel looked back to the images of the systems battered planets. “I believe something terrible has happened here, are you sure there is no evidence of foul play? No signs of void conflict?”
They began to walk out of the library and towards the main atrium. The Preserver asked “Are you telling me to scan for debris or asking if I had already done so?”
Neel paused and apologised “Yes, I am sorry old friend. You have of course anticipated my question and scanned the area for wreckage. I can postulate based on your silence that you did not find any evidence to support the claim?”
Neel started walking again as the ship confirmed their observation. “I will of course continue to scan the area in case of potential hostile threats, but I do not expect to find anything of note. It looks like the act of a hostile universe, not the acts of barbaric lifeforms.”
Neel nodded again, this time entirely for their own benefit. That is about what they had been expecting anyways, if the growing theory in their mind was correct then they would likely find no evidence of foul play at all. At least, not in the conventional sense.
Perking up a little their green eyes shone bright as a new idea struck them. “Preserver, scan the main planet. Look for any signs of technology or ruins of technology. I will get to the bottom of this situation one way or another.”
The computer replied “Already started when it became clear to me you were set on this investigative action. I can report with ninety five percent certainty that there are no technological ruins on the planet. There is a large and well preserved ruin in the upper hemisphere. Would you like a scope on it?”
Neel waved at the air and replied “Yes, yes of course. Let me see what you have found.”
In their mind they saw the feed from one of the massive ship’s many outward facing telescopes. On the current one they saw it swivel towards the planet. Enhancing the image it zoomed in until Neel could almost count each blade of grass on the ground. In front of their very eyes was a large collection of half buried structures. While they did not look technological in origin, any clue to a history undiscovered was a good clue.
“Good work my friend, I will have to make sure we pull a flyby on a blue hypergiant giant so you can recharge your entanglement drives. You earned it.” They spoke to the Preserver in fondness.
The ship answered in a much more subdued manner “That would be appreciated Neel. My compression generators have been a bit chilly of late. I assume you will want to venture to the surface personally? May I suggest an assortment of weapons?”
Neel waved a hand as they entered the vast and colorful main atrium. It was only a few kilometers from the bridge, but it was a sight well worth the walk. That coupled with the fact that it connected directly to the small hangar bay where the many parasite ships were stored.
Neel walked across the room to the hangar and entered one of the small single occupant shuttles. The Preserver spoke once more in their mind. “If you are intent on going down to the surface would you at least let me launch an orbital observation platform to assist you?”
Neel paused at the controls and then said “Yes, might as well. You never know what’s going to happen in the future, that's what makes living in the present so exciting.”
Jrax woke with a satisfied stretch, today was the day. He had been busy excavating the ruins of the forbidden zone in secret for almost a full year now. Only Zieve knew he was here, and the young man was unlikely to turn him in as he was just as interested in the mysteries of the ancients as he was.
Jrax stood to his feet and twisted at the waist in a futile attempt to crack his lower back. Unsuccessful he looked around, he couldn't see Zieve anywhere, usually the young man was out here before he had even had a chance for his morning zalv. The comforting warmth of a fresh cup of the dark orange liquid was a better wake up than anything else he had yet to discover. He had shown the benefits of drinking fresh zalv to a few of his colleges but it had yet to fully take off. Something about the dried and powdered fruit gave him a zest for life and alertness that was addictive in its effectiveness, and a little addictive in general.
But that was not the important reason he was here. He put a small pot of the mixture on the boil as he pulled his notebook out of his waist pouch. The small leather bound manuscript contained everything he knew of the ancients and their strange ways of life.
According to the few tablets and inscriptions he had so far recovered, the ancients lived in the void and traveled this strange realm of nonexistence in vast ships of solid metal. Why they would have needed to be made of metal made no sense to him. Surely wood would have been much lighter and cheaper? Maybe it was a style thing, from what he could gather the ancients made almost everything out of metal. Such was their vast power and wealth they were able to extract metal from the void itself.
This had always sat ill with him, everyone knew of the void, the space outside of reality. But surely they couldn't do such things as the void was empty, wasn't it? Perhaps the great teachings warning of the demons that lurked in the void were false after all. It was said that the void used to be full of life, an infinite world to build upon. One day the demons had come from beyond the realms of the humbub and devoured all that existed without till at last they rained fire and death upon Ixninth. The celestial realms of the humbub had been reduced to ashes and the survivors fled their metal cities in terror as they were consumed by the angry earth.
He shook his head. The mythos of their people was a fractured thing, handed down largely through word of mouth by millennia of terrified priests who had no real understanding of what they should be so afraid of.
He knew, it had been a hard truth to swallow but in his studies of the forbidden ruins he had made discoveries. Discoveries like the identity of their ancient destroyers.
They were not demons at all, they just looked like them, their bodies twisted and monstrous, their hunger for destruction nearly insatiable. They killed for fun and destroyed the remains, the fact that they hadn't killed all of the ancients was a miracle likely attributed to the paranoia of certain individuals. Places like these ruins had been ancient refuges to them, structures buried far into the guts of the mother earth called bunkers. An affront on nature, but necessary for the survival of their race.
It had taken thousands of years from what he had been able to gather before the planet was once more survivable on the surface. They left their ancient bunkers and found that all that once had been was no more. They had begun again.
Jrax was happy to be alive, especially knowing some of the struggle that his ancestors must have gone through just to survive. He put thoughts of such things out of mind and busied himself combing his fur. It wouldn't do to get mangey knots from a lack of self attention, he was a respectable scholar afterall.
His snout crinkled in a small snarl as he thought of Primo Haxix, the premiere leader of the Church of Brox in his home city of Broxix. The man was a devout follower of Brox’s teachings, and his most severe hurtle to spreading the truth of things. The closeminded man refused to see reason.
Done with his morning grooming he pulled on his open fronted work shirt, the rough fabric a little itchy against his fur but necessary to protect him from biting insects and the sun. It was hot near the ruins, the lack of vegetation one of the reasons the Primo called the land cursed. From what he had found it was no more cursed than any other piece of land, it had something to do with things called water concentrators he had discovered. He didn't understand the concept fully, but it seemed that the area was perpetually dry like the Neeix Desert to the south. A strange concept but it certainly explained why nothing would grow there.
Putting on his sandals and grabbing his excavation kit he slung the bag over his shoulder and started out of camp. He dodged around and through a thick copse of trees, his camp hidden from view in order to protect it from fanatics and the church’s spies. The area around the ruins was constantly under surveillance, he had been spotted a few times and chased but luckily his identity had never been uncovered.
He checked that the coast was clear and then made a quick transition to the bushes a few dozen feet away. Sighing as he didnt hear the telltale sounds of pursuit he continued on. The pack was heavy but he was undeterred.
Normally traveling alone into the wilderness would be tantamount to suicide, the many ferocious predators of their homeworld converging on a lone individual, but he was unafraid. The ruins protected him, some sort of aura seemed to surround the area that deterred the predators from approaching. He had read of it on the inscriptions, it was called a protection grid in the ancient texts that adorned the walls of the ruin, but he had yet to truly parse what it meant.
Whatever it was he was grateful for it as it allowed him to work in peace without constantly having to watch his back against attack from the abominations the demons had left behind.
He walked along the narrow and hidden path he had forged through the dense undergrowth towards the ruins. He shook his furred head, Zeive was probably already there. The young man was always excited to help him make some new discovery or ancient find. Yes, there was nothing to worry about.
Almost as soon as he told himself that he had nothing to worry about he tripped and landed hard on the soft sandy soil. Crawling to his feet he heard the unmistakable sounds of clanking armour plates and was soon surrounded by church soldiers. Resplendent in their brown leather greatcoats and shining steel breastplates.
“Oh..” Was all he said, a plethora of steel spear points at his throat.
Another sound met his ears and he looked behind him. From the path he watched a magnificently maned man stroll towards him, crimson cloak over his brushed leather overcoat covered in fine gold buckles. It was Primo Haxix, his biggest detractor and the most powerful person in all of Broxix.
Primo Haxix strode to him and laughed, a thoroughly nasty sound, devoid of mirth or joy. “Wow, I knew it had to have been an ignorant son of a demon to have crossed into the forbidden zone. But you? You have got to be the dumbest intellectual I have ever met. Clap him in irons, bring him to the fortress of Brox.” The ostentatious humbub then strode away regally as if they cared no more for his welfare, and they likely didn't. Jrax heard the unmistakable sound of a frourn drawn carriage, likely to carry the Primo’s lazy ass back to the capital.
One of the soldiers produced a set of iron clamps which they applied to his wrists, the metal pinching his arm hair painfully and he chirped in discomfort.
“Follow me or I will make you follow.” The man said gruffly.
Jrax did as he was told. No reason to get a beating on top of his arrest.
The soldiers led him through the brush and out to the main roadway. The road was simple hard packed earth, but it served its purpose. Leading right to the edge of the forbidden zone.
He snorted as they led him back along the road towards Broxix. It was a large city, almost fifty thousand inhabitants lived and died within an afternoon’s hike of the ruins and yet they knew nothing of their own history. The Church taught that the demons had destroyed their ancestors and all they had built before Brox took them into the belly of Ixninth for their protection. But that wasn't entirely true. It wasn't the whole truth in any event, and in Jrax’s opinion that was tantamount to lying.
They marched for an hour before the leader of the troop called a halt near a small roadside inn that catered to pilgrims. He looked at Jrax and said gruffly “We are stooping for refreshment, would you like some water?”
Jrax nodded suspiciously and the man gestured to a few of the others to go into the building.
Jrax watched as the trio of so-called holy soldiers kicked the door open and rushed in, swords drawn. Screaming and the sound of crashing furniture could be heard and Jrax chirped angrily but was kept from remarking by a threatening glare from the troop leader.
After a few more minutes of this the sounds ceased and the three soldiers exited carrying food and wine as well as a small bladder of water.
The wine and dried meat morsels were shared about as the troop leader approached with the water and stopped. Staring at Jrax, the man proceeded to unstop the bladder and pour its contents into the dirt as his feet.
When the skin had been completely emptied the troop leader laughed curly and gestured at the small mud puddle. There you go blasphemer, drink up.
A chorus of nasty chuckles sounded from all about as Jrax just stood his ground.
The leader stopped laughing, his face turning from savage mirth to rage as he drew his sword and pointed it at Jrax’s throat.
“I said drink! Do it now or so help me Brox I’ll…” the large armoured man started to say but Jrax cut him off smugly.
“Or you will what? You can’t kill me or you would have already. No, Primo Haxix wants my punishment to be public.” Jrax spat. “He wouldn't let a little pissant like you take his triumph away from him, so no. I will not drink, nor will I eat unless it is something tasty and nutritious. I would rather starve than allow such ignorant fools to debase me.” he said with a smug chortle.
The now enraged troop leader drew his sword in a threatening manner and Jrax felt his knees shake slightly in fear. But he stood tall and firm, not allowing his terror to show on his face. He would show these zealous assholes what it meant to truly serve a higher purpose, even if it meant he would die anyways.
The leader lowered his weapon and sneered. “Let's see how smug you are when we take you to the chamber of repentance. We will see who gets the last laugh.” the man said angrily. “Okay, form up and move out you lazy sons of snurlg. We need to reach the Fortress of Broxix by mid afternoon.”
Jrax was shoved by one of the soldiers behind him who growled “Get moving scum.”
He shook his head sadly, the road was long and the sun was high. But he would walk with shoulders straight and head held high, for he knew his cause was just.
End of Part 1
==End of Transmission==
Curious what will be discussed at this Fridays Status Conference in Juniors case. Obviously the status of his guilty plea filed recently in the motion put before the court by his new attorneys. Also his sentencing I suspect. I wonder what else?
I had a thought and wanted to share. Junior is pleading guilty to 25 counts of CSAM and obstructing Justice. Serious stuff. He’s pleading guilty to all of it with no promises. Nothing. He’s literally throwing himself at the mercy of the judge, whom I assume will be deciding his sentence.
There’s always been talk of whether Junior made this, or that, deal with respect to Abby and Libby’s murders. I think he gave law enforcement a statement regarding his involvement in the murders, and what he knows happened that day in Delphi. As incredible as that sounds, I think it’s nothing new to this guy. Look at what he did that day they raided the house he shared with his dad. He immediately started talking to the FBI agent that interviewed him that day. He told her he knew he had a problem. He acts like he didn’t know he was breaking any laws, but we all know he knows he was breaking laws by exploiting the underaged girls for photos and videos. But here he was talking to the FBI agent and admitting he knew it was a problem— essentially saying I’m guilty. I’m sure he was given his right to an attorney and he agreed to keep talking. I’m also sure they have it all on tape, including his disastrous polygraph examination he agreed to take. I suspect he honestly had no clue the kinds of questions they would ask him. He failed twice when asked if he knew who killed Abby and Libby. They knew right then and there he knew— he knew the killer.
So here he was on February 25, 2017 admitting to the the CSAM they were finding on those devices seized from inside that house. No worries about where each device was found inside that house. Whether it was an old iPhone 4 found in his dads bedroom (I’m speculating), with his dads DNA and greasy fingerprints all over it, or they found it in his bedroom. He’s not waiting for the investigation— he’s telling the FBI agent yeah those are my old devices I’m guilty- I promise to stop. Incredible stuff.
Now fast forward to August 2022. The 2 year anniversary for Juniors arrest is fast approaching. Junior is all comfortable living on Cheetos, Twinkie’s and county jail food. Most guys would be screaming to get out— not Junior, he’s now this quasi celebrity criminal with everybody in the county pedo pad fawning over him— filling him with his favorite orange puffed treats. Making me think of that Zach Bryan song Something in the Orange roll around in my head..
It'll be fine by dusk light I'm telling you, baby
These things eat at your bones and drive your young mind crazy
But when you place your head between my collar and jaw
I don't know much but there's no weight at all
(I love Zach’s lyrics)
Investigators needed a statement from Junior. He readily admitted to all the CSAM—no attorney necessary. There was never going to be a trial— he’s on tape admitting his crimes that he knows he committed He’s a unique criminal— he pled guilty with no promises back on February 25, 2017. Now all they had to do was get him to talk about Delphi. He hadn’t been as forthcoming to investigators with what he knew about that day. They knew he knew something. They also knew his biggest fear was taking the full blame for the murders of Abby and Libby. Just read his post arrest interrogation transcript from August 19, 2020 and you will know what I’m taking about.
Last August 2022 investigators lit a fire under Juniors ass (sorry for that visual). They stoked the proverbial fire— they lit that match. The investigators decided Junior needed some shaking up— he was too damn comfortable living in a county jail. Who knew that would happen. He could easily wait out three-four years, and by the time they get to a trial— he’s already done his sentence. He walks out of jail and they lose their leverage. He’s back where it’s harder to get him to talk— which has been the plan of arresting him and getting him alone for all that disgusting CSAM found in the house shared by both Junior and his daddy. Keep him away from his daddy’s bad influence. That was the plan.
They created the ruse about someone having looked up that Marathon gas station. Not only that— but the FBI lost all the security video from that day. No way to prove he was never there that day— that thought had to rattle through Juniors head. He’s going to take all the blame for the murders— it was his biggest fear. investigators played him like a cheap fiddle and he never knew it. Create fake story— tip the MS couple— shake Junior and get him to talk. There had to have been a undercover man in that county jail stoking that fire- and giving Junior lots of Twinkies.
It worked and just like he did with the CSAM— he made a statement with no guarantees from anyone. Sound incredible? It happens all the time across this country. Junior is throwing himself on the mercy of a judge— who I suspect will soon sentence him for the CSAM. And possibly someday for his involvement in the murders of Abby and Libby. No 12 of his peers from a local pool of jurists— just the judge deciding his fate. It’s possible his chances are much better with an impartial judge— than risk judgement by a group of moms and dads, sisters and brothers and of course grandparents who aren’t going to be very forgiving.
10 days and we get a new look at Allen. My money says he’s still all mopey and depressed..