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bnhaficsforthesoul · 4 years ago

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BNHA characters and their genshin experiences

I've been way into genshin for the past couple months, if anyone wants to play with me message me (I'm lvl 45 rn) but be warned I have shitty internet and am a partial razor main

but this is mainly characters I can see actually putting time into genshin

Bakugou

Mains: Yanfei

his main has probably been most every pyro character at some point

he wants diluc so bad, whenever someone else complains that diluc ruined their pity he wants to ruin their existence

before yanfei his main was probably hu Tao

hed definitely play klee if he had her lmao but he doesnt and is patiently waiting for her rerun

he has a lot of 5 star characters and is f2p, he can always get banner characters within at least the first pity, but for standard 5 stars hes gotten keqing and qiqi way too many times and hes livid

especially as a previous hu tao main, he was begging for Jean, still has yet to come home

hes probably a very high level, not fully maxed out considering he hasnt been playing all that long, he was probably forced to start when the rest of the bakusquad started playing it and he just took off

has really shitty artifact luck though, like his characters arent bad or anything but they could be so, so much better

and ugh hes livid

explores everything, has 100% exploration everywhere, but hes not bored hes still got artifact farming to do and he enjoys terrorizing enemies

in co op he will set you and everything around you on fire. cope.

Todoroki

Mains: Xiao or Ganyu

probably only started playing because Izuku asked him to

kaeya has also been on his team since day 1 and he is never leaving doesnt matter his friendship has been level 10 for weeks now who cares

was f2p until xiao, who didnt want to come home at all, and he finally got him on his 180th pull

now he doesnt care and will buy primogems whenever hes bored

he has a lot of constellations on kaeya and hes so proud of that, probably c4, is considering buying way too many primogems just so that he can hopefully get his c6

now his artifact luck is godly, you'll go into a domain with him and be like ugh I got nothing and hes like I got a 4 piece set with all attack or crit rate/damage main stats like haha I hate you

but yeah his characters are very strong cause of this, but he doesnt put effort into building a lot of them, he only levels up and gives good artifacts to his team and a couple other characters he likes but everyone else just sits there for a while

hes not super obsessed with the game, but he does think its funny seeing bakugou get so upset whenever they do domains together

doesnt even bother doing daily tasks really unless hes trying to save primogems

Midoriya

Mains: Venti

hes so good at building characters, like he looks up builds online and watches those "do INSANE damage with these tips" videos - and he sets out to get them done and he does

bakugou is once again livid whenever they play together, because Izuku barely has to try and can do so much more damage than him

he does have to put in a lot of work for his artifacts though because he doesnt settle for the okay ones he needs the absolute best

he builds his favorite characters the most ofc, but he evenly distributes things to other characters he knows can be useful- those characters might not have insane stats but they're still good

will not kill timmies pigeons, hell hunt birds in the wild for fun though

definitely a food hoarder

also does a lot of exploring and probably has at least 90% for each area

Kaminari

Mains: Lisa

he is 1000% in love with Lisa, he took her quest very seriously

and so many people say shes horrible, he hates it, hes made her crazy strong out of spite

his team consists of only his wifus- meaning lisa, beidou, rosaria, and mona

for a long time beidou was his second but then rosaria came along and hes like ugh big tiddy goth gf, but lisa still remains queen

these are the only characters hes built though, save for a couple like probably razor and xiangling that he used before he fully got this team

is an ayaka saver

he doesnt care too much about most 5 stars but will sometimes get them just to say he has them, but they end up just sitting there rotting away because he never puts work into them

he does have hu tao though and would get ganyu if she ever had a rerun

Kirishima

Mains: Diluc Razor or Beidou

they're all on his team, the last person switches out but it's most likely zhongli or childe

hes all about dps, support who, he just wants to hit hard and do insane damage , so yes he made dps zhongli

except his builds arent that great, with some help his builds are decent, but on his own hell be like ugh that's some sexy 300 damage

probably didnt know what 90% of the stats even meant and just put random attack ones on people and went yeah that looks good

doesnt really care though and is just having fun so hell play how he wants (as he should) but he does have to ask for help when farming bosses

loves exploring but misses so much, hell get distracted easily and end up just messing around

honestly probably hasnt bothered to ascend his world since he got to level 35, if he did the quest hed probably go straight to 45 and even then hed still have extra exp because hes been there for so long oml

but eventually he would have to and hed be trying to do it like :,) this is fine and it takes him a lot of tries but he gets there eventually,,, only to immediately have another one waiting for him poor baby

Mina

Mains: Klee or Xiangling

thinks baizhu is hot (and is correct) so shes desperately waiting for him

was a I must play 24/7 player until after the last story quest, then she got kinda bored but still plays frequently so she can save primogems and likes playing co op

goes into random peoples worlds a lot

shes got some pretty strong characters and is proud of her account

definitely makes tiktoks of her playing with the bakusquad cause it's always v chaotic (it's probably only denki and kirishima most of the time, but sometimes either bakugou or sero will join in)

does all the genshin tiktok trends

shes a pretty high level since shes probably been playing for a while and has most everything done

she loves helping lower level people though she thinks it's so cute and loves the power she feels when she one shots things

Sero

Mains: Xingqui

hes a pretty casual player, kinda only plays when hes bored or the others make him play with them

but his stats arent too bad, they're fairly average but he gets by

has so many primogems because he doesnt bother to wish on anyone, probably wants kazuha though

he does get super invested into the story though, hes so curious about the world and where the story is gonna lead

probably watches a lot of genshin theory videos and now he over thinks everything in the game

he explores a lot, not so much to find every single thing but more so just because he likes looking at everything, hes very excited for all the new places

Shinsou

Mains: Childe

hes a very thorough player, he explores a lot and puts a lot of work into building his characters

most of them arent all that great but he has plans to fix them

his main team is very well built, not the best, but still good

he struggles when he has to switch someone out for a domain or something because his other characters are so painfully mediocre right now and he feels so bad

shinsou, playing a character that can do like max 200 physical damage and biggest damage is like 2 thousand, repeatedly saying I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you deserve so much better, I'm so sorry

even if it's not the worst damage by far, he feels bad about anything under his main team's stats because they're just so much higher

broke. has no primogems. spent them all on childe and his constellations. does he regret it? well he sure does appreciate his c6 so- hell manage

yes he spent real money on his stupid mass murderer who he loves very much

fights childe every day even though he already collected the treasure, he is but a humble simp

probably decently lucky with wishing like he can beat the 50/50 almost every time

Tamaki

Mains: Chongyun and Sucrose

he only started playing recently, probably kirishima got him into it, but he immediately fell in love

kirishima was like tell me when you're level 16 so we can play together !!! and 2 days later tamaki was level 16 and kiri was shook because how the hell did he do it so fast

hates domains, the dread he feels when he realizes the lower level isnt going to give him anything anymore, and he has to move up to the next, and the next,,

asks kirishima to help him only to realize he isnt much help, is too nice to say that so he let's kiri keep trying- one day kiri gets deku to play with the two of them and tamaki almost cries because finally he can get through the level 90 domain and actually get things ugh

cannot get xingqui to save his life he refuses to come home and poor tamaki is so sad he wants him a lot hes even got all his materials saved up

Monoma

Mains: Ningguang

honestly doesnt play all that much but takes pride in making his account seem v good, is a whale

but hes very good at the game, didnt know what the artifacts were for at first and gave people ones based on how they looked but once he figured it out hes fixed them

is a very standard player, logs in every day to do his commissions and use his resin then logs out, he doesnt put too much time into the game and doesnt worry if he misses a day or two

worships ningguang, also really likes xinyan, his other team members are probably venti and albedo

has every single banner 5 star that has come out since he started playing, probably doesnt have klee though and is v upset about it, and is thanking the heavens for all the reruns lately

also doesnt have keqing and wants her a lot cause he likes her

accepts every single co op request he gets, and despite what a lot may think hes actually a very nice person to play with, not toxic at all - unless you're someone he knows then he might be mean to you shshshsh

Shigaraki

Mains: Razor

haha isnt it so odd that they sound so similar haha (if you dont know they have the same japanese va and I'm guessing hed play it in Japanese)

obviously he can be kinda busy ya know being a criminal and all that but when hes not he puts a lot of time into genshin

sadly doesnt have very good luck when it comes to characters or artifacts, but hes doing his best even with 0 primogems and his 50% crit rate

doesnt explore all that much, most of the exploring hes done came from him trying to get all the oculus

his razor is so good though, except that's the only character hes put tons of effort into

except for now zhongli, hes not replacing razor but ugh does he love zhongli

but his other characters are pretty mediocre at best, he could build them if he wanted to, hes good enough at gaming to figure it out, he just doesnt have the time to spend to do it so he focuses on his main team

also (spoiler alert kinda) when we had to go to the wolf spirit to fight the abyss herald and razor was there, afterwards how razor was saying how he was too weak and stuff and was super sad, at that very moment shiggy decided the entire abyss order had to be destroyed - sorry aether (he chose lumine) but razor is more important than you

#theres probably more charavters that would play but i can add to this later #did i describe myself througout these #yes of course #anyways diluc supremacy if youre not apart of the 70% of the fandom that hates him then youre superior i dont make the rules #bnha headcanons #bakugou #shigaraki #todoroki #kaminari #kirishima #midoriya #deku #shinsou #monoma #amajiki

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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years ago

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Contending the Flame XI

Author’s note: This chapter kept going on for a while so I had to cut it off somewhere which means next chapter will have Hvitserk and Ivar in Vestfold. This chapter progresses readers part a lot though and I’m very pleased with how it turned out. I’ve also reached 200 followers so I’m considering making a writing challenge for fun. Thanks to all of you who have made this happen!

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 2716

Warnings: The usual

After many days and nights at the open water, you came to land by notice of a raven. The birds were intelligent creatures and held a deeper context in their religion. You were beginning to feel the early traces of curiosity rearing. When the longboat had slipped into silent spells, you would try to listen to pieces of conversations and make sense of the strange fables and gods. By the time you were passing into the fjord, you were struck with the guilt that a day had passed and you had forgotten to pray to God.

The sight of the foreign city had you leaping up and hanging over the ledge of the boat to catch a better glimpse. The idea of different lands always seemed so fantastical to the point of myth, yet here you were pulling into a dock. It was a dark and cold place, besieged by tall cliffs of iron rock. The sun was already low, and it wasn't even midday yet.

For all of its murky preface, you still couldn't shake your excitement at arriving in Kattegat. It appeared you were the only one wearing a smile. The rest of your shipmates were stricken with sullen faces, and Ubbe was addressing the warriors.

"Lagertha's watch will already know we're here, so be prepared for questioning when we tie-up," He said. "Remember, we aren't here to start a war, or to win back Kattegat. We're looking for answers about the spy sent into our army."

"But Lagertha is your enemy," One of the men piped up. "Aren't you going to fight her regardless of that matter?"

Ubbe appeared frustrated. "Only when all of the sons of Ragnar have come to an agreement will we fight."

There was more chatter and bickering in hushed whispers as Ubbe tried to reign in the rabble. You watched on, wanting to help the eldest brother, but you knew your powerlessness. Audhild was beside you observing as well, and she made a harsh noise in her throat that resembled a laugh.

"Ubbe doesn't care to avenge his mother," She said offhandedly.

You paused a moment, not knowing if she wanted you to answer or if it was just her way of airing her outrage. "What do you mean?"

"Lagertha was the one who murdered Queen Aslaug. Some say to win back Kattegat, while others would have you believe it was revenge on her luring Ragnar away."

Ivar had spoken briefly about his mother, but you weren't aware of the entire history until this moment. "And what do you believe?"

"I believe Aslaug wanted to die and bewitched Lagertha into being the one to do it. She was a sad woman, made empty by the disappointing King Ragnar. There's no question that Lagertha is the better Queen, but reasoning won't reach slighted loved ones. Ivar will never allow Lagertha peace."

You looked into the healer's eyes and saw the truth of what she spoke. It was tragic. "How will you Northmen ever triumph over the Saxons, when you're too busy killing each other?"

Audhild barked out a brisk chuckle. "Smarter leaders than you or I have said much the same, yet here we are plotting to steal back Kattegat while Harald Finehair plans to launch an assault to win him rule over all of Norway. These are bold choices, and actions worthy of Valhalla. There's much you don't understand, nun."

"I wish I did," You murmured, feeling foolish.

Audhild studied you and seemed to determine you were genuine. "Perhaps you will, now that you're here. I don't think you'll see England again."

The mention of that didn't alarm you as much as it should have. You felt a pang of sadness, but not for the loss of England. That place had never felt like home. Nowhere ever had, and that was the root of your melancholy. You didn't have a place to belong, just a series of unfamiliar destinations had come and gone.

As the ship slowly coasted up to the wharf, there weren't many onlookers, and you chalked that up to being that these people witnessed boats coming and going at all times. One ship wasn't enough to warrant too much attention. If anyone took a second glance, it was because of Ubbe. Those sons of Ragnar drew attention wherever they went, and it must have been unusual for him to be seen without the others present.

When the boat docked, the crew immediately leapt to unloading the few provisions that had been packed aboard. You kept close to Audhild, unsure where your usefulness lied. You wanted to go and have a gander at the city, but you knew you couldn't just spring out on your own.

"Ólaug," Ubbe called, and your head snapped up at attention. "I want you to remain with Audhild for now. I'll likely be called to meet with Lagertha. I can see some of her shieldmaidens have been sent to treat with us."

You stared over his shoulder to the three women approaching. They were dressed in boiled leather and metal and armed with swords and bows, not unlike the maidens you had seen serving in the army.

"Ólaug? Did Ivar tell you to call me that?"

Ubbe flustered as if it had escaped him unnoticed that little slip-up. "He might have mentioned it, and I don't know your real name."

You sighed, but more from contentment than anger. The name had stuck, and it was something else to remind you about Ivar. "It's alright. I will try to keep out of trouble to make things easier for you."

"Good," He nodded in relief.

Ubbe was the first to hoist his way onto the dock, and you followed close behind him with Audhild and a group of warriors. By then the three shieldmaidens had made their way down to the water, and a golden blonde with intense eyes ringed in kohl stepped forward.

"You're missing something, Ubbe," She started, gathering a look at the rest of his party. "Where are your brothers?"

"Not missing, just separated. What I thought was best for the army no longer aligned with where Ivar and Hvitserk wanted to take it."

The warrior woman appeared unconvinced. "So you thought you'd return here, after threatening to overthrow Lagertha with Ivar the last time."

You tried to contain your surprise at that. Apparently, the feud between the sons and this Lagertha ran deeper than you could comprehend.

"I wished to return home, and to my wife. The ones who came with me sought the same," Ubbe explained. "Please, Torvi. I will give my share of the raids to Lagertha if that's what she wants, but I did not come here for title or glory."

The woman, Torvi, pondered over his words. "I would be less inclined to believe you if Ivar were present, but our scouts reported that you were the only ship to cross the fjord. Perhaps I can have Lagertha grant you a private meeting, but just with you, not even Margrethe would attend."

"I accept that," He agreed. "Do we have permission to disembark? My crew are tired and thirsty."

Torvi took another glance at all of you, and you found it difficult to meet her eyes when they fell upon you.

"You may, and have all of your gold brought to the Queen."

That was where the negotiations ended at least for the time being. You didn't know what task had been entrusted to Ubbe by Ivar, and you thought it better if you didn't know. Torvi led her two companions away back through the streets of Kattegat, and all while Ubbe watched her depart.

"I'm sure others are watching," He commented. "Don't mention Ivar or Hvitserk while out in public."

There was a collective agreement that reverberated from the group, and Audhild took a step forward.

"If Torvi is here, does that mean Bjorn is still in Kattegat?"

Ubbe shook his head. "I'm sure he made for the Mediterranean as he wanted to. Besides, even before we made for England, there were whispers of their marriage failing. Torvi serves his mother now."

As more names were idly tossed in the air, you began to grow more confused and out of place. The Northmen had as many struggles in their leadership as the Saxons, and you wondered if there was a place in this world that wasn't rife with betrayal.

"Come, Ólaug," Audhild's voice broke through your internal fretting. "There's something I must tell you, and it shouldn't be done with so many eyes around."

You frowned in confusion, but when you looked to Ubbe he gave Audhild a swift nod of dismissal. Whatever it was regarding, he knew about it.

You departed the dock, leaving the others to unload the heavy boxes of gold and treasures. Some of it you knew was from the ransacked church in York, but it didn't bother you to see it brought back into foreign lands. What Ivar had said before about the church hoarding wealth was true. Better it to be distributed among this trading post than in the hands of old men who preached righteousness but committed avarice.

You had been anticipating with some excitement to walk through the market stalls of Kattegat, but Audhild was not leading you to the city. She was headed in the direction of a path through the woods, and you weren't sure if you should feel nervous. The sounds of the crowd were growing distant, and you wondered if you should be preparing to run. Audhild may have been a healer, but she was thick in the shoulders and could still likely beat you in a fight.

"Where are we going?" You asked, and your voice shook.

Audhild tossed a glance your way and let out a laugh. "Don't look so nervous, Christian. Do you think I'd kill you now when I could have disposed of you all those times we worked alone back in York?"

It sounded silly out loud, and you ran a hand through your growing hair. "Sorry, I guess the forest made me nervous."

"You are paranoid, but I suppose it's better to be cautious. I would hold onto those instincts if I were you," She said while stepping over brush and deadfall. "And we're headed to my home. Ubbe and I agreed it would be better to keep you out of Kattegat until you've adjusted more. Some might not take to another Christian among us, not after Athelstan."

That was Ragnar's monk friend. Ivar had only mentioned him in passing, and it seemed he was not held in high regard. You supposed if the situation were reversed, and it was a heathen among Saxons, they would feel much the same.

Audhild continued to lead you along this long and difficult path, and the more the forest twisted, the less certain you were of your wayfinding skills. If you had to find the docks again, you didn't think you'd be able to. The dense trees provided decent shelter from the winds, however, and you had lost the prickly feeling on your skin that came from the cold.

"It's not much further now. I don't think I'll have much in the way of food, but I can provide drink and get a fire going," said Audhild.

You were used to going long bouts without a meal, but the fire sounded like heaven. Sleeping on a boat in constant motion wasn't the same as a bed or even a solid floor, and your aching back would welcome either.

The trees were beginning to thin until you found yourself in a small clearing in the woods. The ground was sun-dappled and leaf-covered, and a small house sat vacant in the center. You let out a small gasp, unable to describe what you were feeling at the sight of it.

"I know it isn't much, but it's all I've ever needed. I have no children, and I left for raids more than I was here."

"I think it's wonderful," You admitted. "But I've never had my own home before, and I gave up the need for one when I joined the abbey."

"Strange custom. What's a woman without a home?"

Had you not been a nun, it was likely you would not have had your own property anyway. It would have belonged to the man you would have chosen as a husband. You didn't bother to mention that to Audhild though. She was already looking at you as if you were the most peculiar creature.

"Can we go inside?" You asked, a sudden longing to be sheltered.

"In a moment," Audhild replied while holding you back. "I want to finish what I have to tell you now. Ivar wanted me to do this when we reached Kattegat and not a moment earlier."

At the mention of Ivar, your heart fluttered in both anticipation and concern. "What did he want you to do?"

Audhild took your hands, and she let the gruff expression on her face ease. "You are now made a free woman."

You blinked. If it wasn't for her strong grip on your hands, you were certain your arms would have fallen limp at your sides like dead meat on hooks. The words held much meaning, and you were afraid for whatever came next. You would have to fight the fear if you wanted to be seen as anything more than a coward. "I'm no longer a slave?"

"Yes, you stupid girl," Audhild said, letting go of you before you caught on to how soft she could be. "To be free amongst us gives you certain privileges and ensures you should be kept safer."

You didn't know what privileges she was speaking of, but the bit about being safe put you into a state of ease. "Why did he not free me himself before sending me here?"

"Can you not think of the reason?"

Shame perhaps? No, you banished the thought. Ivar was nothing if not prideful and likely would have wanted to free you himself if he could. You forced yourself to think of the circumstances of why he sent you away to be free, and then…

"If he freed me in York, I could have refused to come here," You spoke aloud and Audhild gave a resounding nod. "He thought I would refuse to stay with him."

"I'm not well acquainted with the Prince, but everyone in Kattegat knows of how he has been abandoned and lost those he cares for. I guess he wouldn't risk the same of you."

You felt guilty, but you didn't know why. As for whether or not you would have chosen to come to Kattegat yourself, you knew in your heart your answer. When you met Ivar again, you would have to make him understand how you felt. You wished he was beside you again, but you knew he had something more important to deal with and you refused to be a burden.

"What do I do now?"

"You come inside to warm up," Audhild said as she started for the door of her home. "And afterwards, we'll have to make sure you start to behave like a proper free woman because for the moment you look as lost as a fish on dry land."

You wanted to be insulted, but you knew the healer was right. You were far from home, and with a tenuous grasp of the language. What did it mean to be free, and among such strange folk as these Northmen whose religion you didn't fully understand?

You gathered the skirts of your slave frock and hurried after her. Perhaps to start you could buy new clothes. You also had not a coin to your name, and though you were capable with a needle and thread you couldn't make an entire new wardrobe with such paltry efforts. It seemed you would have to rely on the kindness of strangers for the time being, though the thought of that felt like charity. You would do what you could to assist Audhild in place of proper payment. She was calling for you again, for Ólaug. Only this time you didn’t spurn from the name, you ran towards it and the new freedom that Ivar the Boneless had gifted to you.

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#ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #history vikings #vikings #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar x y/n

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crescentsteel · 5 years ago

Text

Run

plot: Zombie run with Eita Semi genre: fluff, crack wc: 2k A/N:

- Thanks again @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for the betaread and the encouragement to post this. Also to @hidden-otaku-stuff for big brain ideas. I luv yall so much u hav no idea

- We also have a spoofy halloween collab at @babythotshq

The usual chilly Autumn breeze is not present tonight among the crowd you are standing with. The sun has already set hours ago and darkness has completely enveloped the usually deserted area. The only source of light in the place is that one large orange fluorescence which only covered a certain spot. Tall trees are looming over the few empty, abandoned houses with only a narrow concrete path that accommodated the amount of people here tonight.

It was downright eerie, if not for the excitement buzzing in the air at the event that is about to take place. You’re so darn excited that your fingers are curling up. You clasp them together to contain the anticipation pumping in your whole body.

“Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Your gray-haired boyfriend wore a smile to hide his worry, but you see through it anyway. It doesn’t affect you though. The fact that he went with you to attend this event is enough to make you silly happy.

You cling to his arm cheerfully. “Of course! This is gonna be so fun. I can feel it already.” You go in front of him and embrace him, burying your face on his chest. You squeal giddily from the promise of the thrill you will experience with him tonight.

Semi looks at people around you with a mild pink tint on his face. Compared to you, he’s a bit more reserved in showing affection, especially publicly. But he doesn't have the heart to push you away while you happily embrace him. He puts his hands on your shoulders as his way of reciprocating.

You look up to him with bright eyes beaming with zeal. It mellowed him up. He forgets about his surroundings and just admires how pretty you look like this.

“Thanks for coming with me,” you say with the most adorable smile. He cups your cheek and rubs it with his thumb.

“Just don’t hurt yourself later, okay?”

A loud siren drowns out the murmuring of the crowd. It was disturbing to say the least. He looks around to see where it came from. He knows that aside from the people here, there’s literally no one else around. This place is as abandoned as it gets.

You pull away from him.

“It’s gonna start soon. Let’s go.” You drag him to the starting line where they’re giving out instructions. Present there are a few staff distributing your kits which consists of a flashlight, a belt with three red bands, and white paper that has (3) on it. Behind the saff is a black gate that’s closed shut. He attempts to look beyond it just to get a glimpse of what will take place, but he fails to see anything at a significant distance from the lack of light.

Earlier, there was enough space for everybody. Now that everyone’s gathered and restless from the anticipation, it’s getting a bit too cramped for his taste. You aren’t fazed though. You looked more excited actually.

“Have you done this before?”

You frown at him. “Didn’t I tell you? I do this every year.”

That took him by surprise. For someone doing this annually, you’re way too pumped up.

“Why are you so excited then?”

“Cause you’re with me, of course.”

He can never understand how you say whatever’s in your head without any hesitation. Yet, he finds it so endearing because it’s something he’s unable to do. As much as he loves you, his thoughts just don’t come out as they are in his thoughts. It’s usually filtered out to reduce whatever lovey dovey cheesiness his words might have. Sometimes he feels bad about it because he can’t be as candid as you are. You never complained though.

He clears his throat to rub off the fluster he’s holding in.

“So tell me if I got this right. These 3 red strips are our lives?” He softly tugs the bands hanging on your waist. They’re flimsy and he can tell that a soft pull can easily remove them.

“Mmhmm. Lose them all and you’re out.”

“And we can’t touch the ‘zombies’?”

“Yep.. We just outrun or avoid them.”

“For how long?”

Your eyes dart to the side then up, evidently thinking of the answer to his question.

“Hmm, they won’t be onto us all the time. But the track is 6 kilometers long.”

6 kilometers? He didn’t think this whole thing would cover that much distance. Not that he can’t handle it. It should be nothing compared to Coach Washijo’s training. But you, he wasn’t aware that you can cover that gap. You’re not exactly the type to be into any strenuous physical activity. The only time is when …

“What’s wrong, Eita? Your face is flushed.”

When you put a hand on his neck to gauge his temperature, he grabs your wrist in a flash and puts it down.

“It’s nothing. Don’t mind it.”

Your once exuberant demeanor dwindled down to a despondent one.

“Are you mad because I dragged you into this?”

Oh shit. He didn’t mean to sound harsh. He just didn’t want to let you know that his mind took a sudden lewd turn.

“Heeey,” he says softly while squeezing your hands. “I swear it’s not that. There’s just a lot of people so it feels hot.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” the same anxious look still spread on your face.

He pinches your cheeks upward to form a goofy smile on your troubled face. “Don’t worry about me, y/n. We’re going to outrun these zombies like shit, okay?” Your lovely smile comes back as you nod.

The same siren rings again, signalling the gates to open. The orange light powers down, which is replaced by flickering, dim lamp posts beyond the gate. It reveals a concrete path. It’s supposed to be the only path, but there were signs that say (1) (2) (3). (2) was the concrete path in the middle while the (1) and (3) led to the left and the right which are soiled grounds.

The number you drew from the staff was three so you went right. There were less people now since the crowd had been divided into three. He wasn’t expecting much, but he didn’t expect anything. There were no zombies, just the attendees that were grouped with you two. If it weren’t for the signs where to go, he’d have no idea how to proceed.

There were no fixed lights, only the flashlights that were handed to everyone. Even with a group of people, footsteps and the rustling of the leaves were the only sounds he could hear. No one talked. Minutes of walking forward in silence went by and still, nothing. Yet, he’s getting creeped out. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. He let his eyes wander at the darkness lurking in the seams of the forest-like area.

The fragile tension in the air broke when someone screamed. It came from behind. All those who were near you turned their heads back to see what it was, including him. But he doesn’t see the source of commotion when the people suddenly sprints to his direction.

He knew that it was the zombies, but he just stood there because he wanted to see them in action. When they come into view, he regrets dawdling around. They aren’t like the zombies you’d see in theme parks for fun. If he didn’t know that this was just a halloween event, he’d be convinced that they’re real. To make it worse, they’re not the limping, sluggish zombies - they are out to get people.

‘The fuck are they supposed to be - track runner zombies?’ he said in his head.

He was too absorbed in the scenery that he only snapped out of it when he heard snarling and huffing too close to him already.

He pivots a complete 180-degree on his heels and dashes away. He might have reacted late but his athleticism will make up for it. He didn't look back and focused his energy on his legs. He thought that the zombies only came from behind. Apparently, they also came from the side of the pathway. Everything seems straight out of a horror movie. Shriek and snarls filled the forest air. It’s like Wrong Turn but with zombies.

So what if it’s not real? It’s too creepy. No way he’s letting any of those zombies near him.

He sees a sign that says ‘200 meters from the end’ when he feels something’s not right. Something’s missing.

He forgot about you! Fuuuck. He stops dead on his tracks and looks around while panting. Maybe you’ve caught up to him. But he highly doubts it. He was running at full speed. And just like he thought, he couldn’t see you anywhere near him. He panicked when the zombies came that you completely slipped from his mind.

‘Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m an idiot.’

He lets out a grunt knowing that there’s no other choice but to go back and look for you. You might be a regular attendee, but that didn’t ensure your safety.

Zombies were sparing him second glances because he’s the only one who’s heading back to where they came from.

Going back meant facing the zombies head on while not getting caught. Running away was easy. Avoiding the zombies head on while looking for you simultaneously right after sprinting with all his might was not. He’s already tired.

With two zombies growling in front of him as they blocked his path, he just gave up. “I’m just looking for my girlfriend, okay? Can’t you just let me through?” He took his “lives” and dangled it in front of them. “You can have these. Have you seen someone wearing a pink sweater and gray pants?” The two zombies stood straight and looked at each other.

“I think we passed by someone wearing pink.” Zombie A said. “Not really sure if that’s her though.” Zombie B added. He hands them his lives for the information they gave him. Now that he doesn’t have any, the zombies won’t bother chasing him anymore.

The two went on running after other attendees. After they got out of the way, he sees you right there jogging towards him.

“Eitaaaa.” You half-shouted. When you reached each other, you slouched with your hands on your knees while panting. “Why did you,” more panting, “leave me?”

“Uhh.” He scratched his head trying to find an excuse. “I thought you were with me the whole time.” He smiles apologetically at you. You stand straight and look at him with sulking eyes. “But you ran so fast! I thought we were gonna outrun them together.” You raised your voice at ‘together.’

“Well, we can outrun them now.” He says in an attempt to console you.

You pout as you softly speak, “I lost my lives already. I was distracted trying to find you.” He was going to apologize but a zombie suddenly appeared behind you without you noticing. He grabs you to his side. “Dude. We don’t have lives anymore.”

The zombie looks at both your empty waistbands then runs away.

“Wait. How come you don’t have any left? You were so fast.”

He felt bad about lying previously so he admits what really happened. He was expecting you to sulk even more but you put your arms around him and smirk. “Hehe. Did you really get that scared?”

He pats your head lovingly and indulges your amusement of having him spooked. “Yes, I did. Let’s try again next year?” Your eyes become wide as saucers before they sparkle with excitement. “You want to do it again?!”

He smiles.“Yeah, why not?” He has to admit that the run got him going. Looking back at what happened, it was actually thrilling. If only he didn’t ‘accidentally’ lose you, he ‘s confident that you two could have finished the whole marathon.

“Yes!!” You pressed yourself to him and held on to him completely. Everyone seems to be busy in the chase anyways so he envelops his arms around your waist and returns the hug this time. Two seconds passed and he realized how ludicrous you two looked, snuggling in the middle a marathon with zombies.

As of reading his mind, you pull away first and meet his gaze with your distinct warm smile. “Let’s go home?”

He grabs your hand and holds it. “Yeah.”

Amidst the zombies and people running around in the moonlit forest, you two walk to the end of the pathway with your fingers intertwined.

#semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi eita scenario #semi eita fluff #semi eita x y/n #semi eita x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu oneshot

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trojantoast · 5 years ago

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Cold is the Night (Day One: Reunion)

Zutara Week 2020

@zutaraweek

AO3

“Once he's gazed upon her, a man is forever changed

The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain

Ages come and go, but her life goes on the same

She lives to see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain

Her colors change to mark the passing of the days

No Earthly sight can match the beauty she displays

And when I die I want her lying by my side

In my grave, in my grave”

- La Belle Fleur Sauvage (Lord Huron)

___

The arctic wind was bitter cold, but the sight of the Southern Water Tribe as he rounded the iceberg filled him with warmth. Unlike its northern sister, with its white, impenetrable walls. Only a wide harbor filled with ships and sea birds, separated the frigid ocean from the village.

No great citadel greeted him, no sparkling palace. Yet, it was not the same tribe as years past. Gone were the huts and animal skin tents. A broad path in the snow led from the port to a neat cluster of igloos nestled at the snow covered foot of the mountains, cradled by a low wall. The only permanent settlement was the low rotunda of sculpted ice and snow that crowned the village. The home of the Southern Tribe winked with fire light in the eternal dawn.

Fire Lord Zuko breathed in the crisp, familiar scent of brine and metallic snow, as his cruiser dropped anchor in the harbor. In minutes his motor boat reached the shore, and his breath of fire was the only thing keeping him from shivering right out of his parka. Summer or not, Zuko was chilled to the bone.

Three figures greeted him on the docks of ice. All were male, tall and broad. One broke away and as he grew closer his voice carried over the arctic wind, until he was only a few feet away.

“Gran Gran will be happy to see you wearing the parka she made you, though… the matching toboggan seems to be missing.”

Zuko smiled as he was enveloped into an embrace, “Hello, to you too, Sokka.”

The warrior gave him a quick squeeze and pulled back, his characteristic grin plastered on his face. Zuko looked down at his previously mentioned navy blue parka. It was cut in the Fire Nation style, and lined with white fur. “Well, I couldn't refuse a gift from a foreign dignitary, especially one that was handmade for me.”

“Certainly not, parkas of that quality can take an entire winter to hand stitch. To have one made for you is a declaration of trust and allyship, sacred to our tribe.” Zuko looked up to the second Warrior, taller than Sokka, but narrower in the shoulders. The firebender bowed formally,

“General Bato,”

There was a bark of laughter, and the third man joined the group, “General... that’s a good one.”

The tall warrior rolled his eyes, “What would you prefer, Hakoda, ‘Igloo-maker in Chief’?”

The leader of the southern Water Tribe threw his arm around the warriors shoulders and smiled, “As long as it's not my igloo.”

There was another round of chuckles, and Hakoda grasped Zuko’s forearm in a formal greeting.

“You really should take care of that parka. Bato’s not kidding, they do take all winter and you know how long those are around here.”

“I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to Kanna when I see her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hakoda smiled softly, but his eyes turned more earnest, and he placed a strong hand on Zuko’s shoulder. The Fire Lord’s guards didn't even flinch. Snow swirled absentmindedly around the group in the moments before the chief spoke, “I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Zuko nodded, his hand dipping unconsciously into the pocket of his parka, “yes, we do.”

___

Talking could wait, apparently, as Zuko and the rest of his crew were loaded up into sleds (recently reintroduced to the tribe's way of life, after they finally had enough food to feed arctic dogs as well as themselves) and taken to the village. It was bigger up close, but barely larger than the smallest of villages in his home country. Children trailed after them, and Zuko smiled as Captain Jee sent little spirals of sparks, like fireworks, towards their awed faces.

Sokka was giving him a very speedy tour, pointing out new landmarks and trying to explain who lived in what igloo, before they passed by in a shower of kicked up snow. The main gathering building of the tribe was circular and sprawling. Multiple branches and bubbles of different rooms peaked out of the drifts of snow. The ship's crew was taken to the temporary barracks to get cleaned up before the feast that the tribe's women had prepared. Zuko was led to the guest house he usually occupied on his visits.

Zuko tried to refuse any big ta-do about his arrival. It wasn't even an official visit. He knew that even if the tribe was quickly bouncing back after the war, that there wasn't much food to spare. However, the tribe members had been insistent, and he couldn't really argue.

He followed Sokka around the backside of the rotunda to the igloos and huts that Chief Hakoda’s family and visitors used.

He tried not to let his eyes drift to the home nestled between his and the chief’s. It’s doorway was dark, no smoke curled from its chimney, and from the snow drifted against the door, it had not been entered in a while.

That’s a good thing, he said to himself.

He wasn’t very convincing.

“You know, I'm surprised you haven't asked about her yet.”

Zuko stilled at the door of his igloo, a now familiar place. He let his eyes linger on the other home.

“I know she’s not here, and that’s how I wanted it to be, so…” he trailed off.

“What has it been? Six months?” Sokka continued past him carrying Zuko’s trunk with little effort. He set it down by the large cot and bed roll. Zuko sighed and followed suit. The space was immediately warmer than the outside air. The curtain of a door settled behind him.

“Seven… and three quarters.” He grabbed a tea kettle and set it on the small cooking fire at the center of the single room house. Sokka plopped down on the cushions around the pit, arranging them so he could comfortable lounge back.

“Hey, I haven't seen Suki in almost five months. I mean,” there was a grunt as Sokka removed his boots, “It's not quite the same, since me and Suki are technically married and you guys…” Sokka seemed to struggle for the right thing to say. In the meantime Zuko removed his own boots and parka, which had grown hot, and ran a hand through his unbound hair. He had kept it roughly the same length for the past five years.

“We agreed that this was the best thing for everyone. Katara’s where she's needed, and so am I.” Sokka raised a critical brow, but just shrugged.

“And, I'm sure your visit here has nothing to do with ‘being where you're needed’” Zuko shot him a withering look. Sokka had the decency to look sheepish.

“Hey,” the warrior raised his hands in surrender, “I only speaking the truth.”

Zuko wasn’t quite ready to face the truth.

He wasn’t ready, because the truth frightened him. It kept him up at night. It made him lose focus in meetings and it made him count the days between every time he saw her. He knew the truth, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Well, buddy, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Zuko looked up from inspecting the tea pot, and smiled, ever so slightly,

“Me too.”

___

The meal was no feast or ball, but the entire village gathered in the largest and center-most room of the rotunda. The tribe’s numbers, with it’s warriors returned, and half a decade of peace, had grown to nearly 200. Yet, the room didn’t seem cramped as everyone piled onto cushions around low dining tables. Even when Zuko’s crew and personal guards (who where only there on principle, Zuko had never felt safer than among the Southern Water Tribe), joined the company, the crowded space felt comfortable and warm.

Zuko had been placed in the seat of honor, at the left hand of chief Hakoda, and the right hand of Kanna, the chief's mother, and the village’s elder. As per tradition, the youngest of the group and the unmarried women served the rest of the tribe before eating. Sokka told him once, that the action was to reinforce loyalty and represent how they serve their tribe first, until they marry, or become adults.

The food was traditional water tribe cuisine, made by collective effort of the women, both married and unmarried, of the tribe.

Platters of roasted fish, and savory rein-caribou meat was served, alongside various stews and cooked greens. sea prunes, clams, and other crustaceans were also distributed. The food, like the tribe who made it, was hearty. It was salty, and fatty, and so unlike the hot spices and complicated recipes of his Zuko’s homeland. The Fire Lord hadn’t had a meal as delicious in a long time.

The room was filled with chattering voices and laughing children, muffled by the animal pelts and cushions they all lounged on. Everyone had striped their outer clothes off, and the parkas joined the piles of furs surrounding the group. People moved from table to table, catching up on the day's activities and trading jokes and stories. The older warriors took special interest in comparing notes with his crew on sailing techniques. Every member of the tribe, from the oldest widow, to the mother’s with their tiny babies, came to Zuko’s table and greeted him formally. Zuko gave them a warriors handshake or a bow, according to their age. Some of the children brought him tiny, crude, carvings of bone, made in the shapes of animals or people. In return, he bestowed a carefully wrapped cake from the satchel at his side into their tiny hands. The pastries were crunchy on the outside and impossibly soft on the inside; shaped like lotus flowers. They were straight from the royal kitchens, and Zuko pretended not to notice when they came back for seconds.

Zuko barely had time to eat the food that had been piled onto his plate, between greeting the tribe, and joining into the discussions at his own table, but he made do.

“So, young man,” Zuko turned from giving a little girl her third pastry, to Kanna. The older woman had finished her bowl of stew, and was now working on the delicate and complex embroidery on a deep blue parka. “What is it you plan to do with all those carvings the children are giving you?”

Zuko smiled, and turned to look at the small army of animals he had absentmindedly arranged in rows next to his table setting.

“I’ll probably put them with the others. I have a glass bureau in my office that holds some of the gifts I’ve received from other dignitaries. The children’s carvings have their own shelf.” The carvings had become a sort of tradition every time he came to visit.

She chuckled, it was a rumbling, gravelly sound, “I can’t imagine these next to the rich items you must get.”

Zuko picked up the carving closest to him. It was a black wolf-whale. The little boy who had given it to him, had charred the bone to mimic the pattern of black and white splotches of the animal in real life.

“Yeah, but these are my favorite.”

He ran his hands along the upright fin on its back.

Kanna smiled quietly to herself and returned to her embroidery.

Slowly, as the night went on, the children grew tired, and their parents bid last goodbyes to the members of Zuko’s table. And as the kids were rebundled up and carried, sleepily, back to their own homes, the rest of the village filed out as well. The younger men and women left in groups, or pairs, laughing heartily together, to spend time among themselves. The widows and widowed warriors bore their own farewells. Soon, even the village elders grew sore of sitting and talking and eating, and went their own ways, wishing the guidance and protection of the spirits in the dreams of their chief, his family, and the Fire Lord.

The dishes had been cleared away much earlier in the night, so when Hakoda led them into a hall toward a small study, they left the gathering room quiet and empty.

Zuko rose from his seat, and extended his elbow to Kanna, who excepted it with a pat to his for arm and a smile.

“Such good manners.” She praised. Zuko felt himself blush.

The adjacent room was furnished with low couches and a stone fireplace that peaked out of the white ice walls. More thick pelts lined the floor. Zuko recognized the large maple shelves and desk as those he gifted Hakoda himself, made of the finest Fire Nation lumber.

Sokka, Kanna, Bato, and Zuko all settled into the couches, as the Chief pulled out a dark blue glass bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. He poured each member of the group a drink of the clear liquid, before he sat another one of the couches, instead of his high backed desk chair.

Zuko took a sip, and tried not to wince as the alcohol burned his throat. Immediately, he was warmer than before. He watched the others. Zuko knew what was coming.

Hakoda took a very slow sip of his drink, and turned to the firebender.

“I’m assuming you didn't sail all the way down to the South Pole to take in the scenery.”

Zuko swallowed, as they all turned their attention to him.

“No, no I didn't.” he took another drink, stealing his nerves, then placed the glass down.

“Me and Katara have discussed it, at length.” Zuko found that Kanna’s stare was level and calm, he felt reassured. “She thinks it’s the best thing for us, and I agree.” Zuko looked around the room.

“We want, no… we're going to get married.”

Zuko didn’t know what reaction he would receive. He had been obsessing over what Katara’s family would say, what they would do, since the idea of marriage first entered his mind. He expected it would involve being forcefully thrown into the arctic ocean. The sensible part of his mind knew there was nothing to worry about, since almost immediately after him and Katara had announced their courtship her family, and her tribe, had taken him in as one of their own (Bato had even teased them about step-grand children). Yet, the other voice in his head still haunted him with fears of rejection. But, Hakoda only sat up, placed his glass down, looked into Zuko’s eyes, and waited for him to continue.

So Zuko did.

“We know that it’s not going to be easy. We know that it will be dangerous. We know that we each have responsibilities and duties, and I respect hers and she respects mine. We’ve been considering it for a while now, and it's what we both want. I know that relations between my nation and yours, are...tense, but they're getting better, and there's people where I’m from that won’t like it, but I think that together, we can show that the four nations can coexist and that the Fire Nation cares about reperatio-”

Hakoda held up a hand, Zuko went silent, he swallowed again.

The chief looked deep into his eyes, Zuko didn't break the contact.

“I don’t care what your union means politically. I don’t care what message it will send to the other nations, what message it will send for your people, son. I just want to know one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Do you love her?”

Immediately, he answered, “Yes,” his hand settled on his chest, between his two lungs, where he knew the scar sat, “with all my heart.”

Zuko looked around the room, each pair of bright blue eyes were fixed on him.

“I don’t know when I started to, maybe it was the day of the comet, maybe before, maybe after, but when I asked her to come with me to fight my sister and regain my throne, I knew it had to be her that came. I love Katara, but before that, I trust her. I trust her with my life. I trust her with my people and my country. I would die for her.”

Zuko felt it then, the ghost of the pain, the exhilaration, the fear as he watched Azula take aim. “Taking that lightning was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I would do it again, ten thousand times over.”

Bato spoke next, “And she feels the same way?”

Zuko thought, for a second, replaying the last five years in his mind. The image that lingered in his mind was the flashes of blue fire through clear water as she battled Azula, risking her life to defeat the most dangerous firebender in the world, just to save him.

He smiled, gently, “Yes, I know she does.”

Kanna’s face was stone, “You swore an oath to serve your people and your country? Is that correct Fire Lord Zuko?”

He nodded. The elder looked him in the eye. He felt like she was looking deep into his soul.

“In our culture, the marriage vow outweighs any oath to lord or land. Katara must come first, before your throne, before your crown. The binding of two souls is far more ancient than any border or king, as old as the very first marriage of the spirits Tui and La. The promise you will make to each other trumps any other loyalty, and will last beyond your last breath, into the next life. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” he instinctively reached into his pocket, “The only reason Katara doesn't know I’m here is because she would say that asking for permission from the bride's family was an outdated tradition” Sokka smirked at that, “but I also know how much your good opinion means to her, and I don’t want to hide anything from you.

“I want to do this by the book, so I’m here, to ask you personally,” he looked from person to person, “do me and Katara have your blessing for our union?”

There was silence in the room. No one moved. Zuko barely breathed.

Then Kanna rose, slowly. Instinctively Zuko moved to help her but she held up a withered hand and crossed over to him.

“Kneel, and close your eyes.”

Zuko did.

He felt her brush her fingers across his forehead.

“Now,” he looked up, “I, Kanna, matriarch of the Southern Water Tribe, mother to Hakoda, grandmother to Sokka and Katara, grant you my blessing, and the blessings of the spirits for your union.” She looked behind her, “Does anyone present of the bride's family object to the bestoying of the blessing?”

The only response was Sokka’s wide grin. Kanna nodded, and returned to her seat. Zuko stood, he couldnt hid the joy on his face, he bowed, low, to each person in the room.

“So,” Hakoda dawned a smile for himself, “have you carved the necklace?”

___

Later that night, Sokka walked Zuko back to his igloo. After Zuko’s announcement there were multiple rounds of celebratory drinks, and the pair was distinctly drunk. The southern warrior threw his arm around the other man’s shoulders as they neared the entrance.

“You know, Zuko…” He burped, “we all knew it was a matter of time before you asked her. Dad just put you through all those formalities to make you sweat.”

Zuko chuckled, “Well, it worked.”

His friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, turned to him, seriously, "You also have to know Zuko, that if Katara was here she would object to you asking us not just because it's and 'outdated tradition' but because there's no question that our answer would be 'yes'."

The Fire Lord looked at the ground, "I just... wanted to be sure."

Sokka shook his head, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "We love you, Zuko. Everyone does. Honestly, I think Gran-gran likes you more than me, which hurts, but whatever," he shrugged, "bottom line, your an important part of this family, and you were long before you an Katara started sucking face." Zuko couldn't hold back a snort of laughter,

"I know, but sometimes it's hard, I'm not used to the whole 'unconditional love' stuff." he looked back, across the shining tops of the tribe, "you all just make it look so...easy."

Sokka laughed, "Yeah, tell that to dad the next time I loose blueprints."

He ruffled Zuko's hair, and returned to his position leaning on him.

“So, when are you formally popping the question?”

Zuko’s eyes traveled over to Katara’s igloo next door, then to the lights of the harbor beyond, and the twinkling stars and moon reflected in the still water.

“She comes back from Ba Sing Se in three weeks, so I figured as soon as she got home.”

Katara’s brother nodded, then grasped each of Zuko’s shoulders, making him look into his eyes, “That means you're staying long enough for bro time?” his brow was furrowed in absolute seriousness.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

___

!!PLEASE REBLOG WITH THOUGHTS AND CRITICISMS!!

You guuuuuuys... it’s officially Zutara Week!!! YEE HAW!!!

Anyway, I’m sorry there was only indirect Katara in today’s submission. That will be rectified tomorrow. My plan for this year (though I haven't followed any plan for Zutara Week yet) is that all of my submissions will be apart of a linear narrative. It starts with today’s prompt, five years after the war, and goes from there. All of the submissions can be stand alone, but thay can also all be tied together. The only day that won’t follow this is Day Three: Celestial. I really love that particular one so its special. All of this could change, so don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoyed :D

P.S. I’ll be tagging all my Zutara Week submissions for this year #ems zkw2020

#ems zkw2020 #Zutara week #zutara week 2020 #zutara #Zuko and Katara #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #Zuko #katara #sokka #hakoda #bato

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businessplanningsolutions · 5 years ago

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The Authority of Money

During my recent trip to the U.S., I decided to play tourist and visit a few places that I had never been. One of the more interesting destinations was the Money Museum at the Federal Reserve Bank in Chicago, Illinois.

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No matter how much it’s talked about in the news and politics, I really had no idea exactly what the Federal Reserve Bank does. I know its name is printed at the top of all of my Benjamin, but that was about the extent of my knowledge. With the help of a friend I’ve had for 40 years, I signed up to take the tour and get a glimpse behind the scenes of the place that money calls home. Knowing the amount of money that passes through the place and seeing the turn of the century style conjured up images of caper stories the whole time I was there. I couldn’t help but think

“okay, if I was going to rob this place, how would I do it?”

The Guided Tour

While it was interesting to learn what the Federal Reserve Bank does, the real beauty of the visit was a special tour through some of the innards with a guide who knows trivia that spans centuries and literally trillions of dollars. Jerry, our tour guide, was a fascinating man who returned from the boredom of retirement to be a tour guide, talking guests through the museum.

He wore a light green and white suit, looking like he too had been minted by the U.S. government decades ago. Over the course of the next hour or so, he shared background on the Fed, stories and more numbers than anyone should be able to recall.

In the main museum, we got to see a number of displays about the history of currency in the United States, including a couple of displays of One Million Dollars:

We also got to learn a bit about what the Federal Reserve Bank does in a video that was put together in-house – nice, but a bit dry. I’m sharing what I took away from it, which may be entirely inaccurate, due to my failing memory.

The Fed’s charter is to “oversee how monetary policy is implemented.” It comes down to three primary functions:

they oversee how payment systems work, so the way checks are cashed, the way credit card and online transactions take place;

they are the regulators of banks in the U.S., so they’re the ones who go in and audit banks to make sure they’re not breaking any laws and

The most visible function is that they’re responsible for moving cash around.

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For most of us, that’s the fascinating part of what they do. Every day of the week, shipments of currency come from the United States mints to the Federal Reserve Bank. The Fed then ships that currency out to the banks that need it. While the larger bills are transported by armored car every day, the $1 bills are packed into unmarked semi-trailers and driven to the building to prepare them for distribution.

I guess it’s not much different from shipping a truckload of iPhones to a warehouse, but somehow it SEEMS riskier that they do that.

On the flip side of things, the Fed gets deliveries of cash from the banks, which is counted and bundled for re-distribution. This is also the step that includes pulling old and worn bills out of circulation. One of the most surprising things I saw was how little wear a bill needs for it to be taken out of circulation. Most of the bills in your wallet are probably not going to pass.

About $17 Million in currency is destroyed every day at the Chicago Fed, which is one of 12 Federal Reserve Banks. The Money Museum even gives you a small bag of shredded money as a souvenir, which contains the remnants of currency equal to about $370. One of the more interesting facts about this shredded currency is that until the mid 20th century, the shredded bills were burned, but because of the toxic chemicals used in the ink, they had to stop doing that.

It’s now shipped off to special landfills for toxic materials. Kind of makes you worry about handling it every day, doesn’t it?

A Personal Tour

I had the pleasure of getting a more personal tour, including a trip to see the money sorting and counting machines (through a thick glass window, of course), but sadly the machines weren’t operating that day.

Those functions are visible from an additional section of the Museum that was closed off in 2001, so not many people get to visit it.

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My other favorite part was looking at the high denomination currency that’s no longer in circulation. One display has a $10,000 bill in it, along with several other bills from the 200-ish years of American money printing. The 10k bills were printed until the 1940s and discontinued when it became apparent that virtually all bills above $1000 in denomination were being used for criminal purposes.

Just over 300 of the bills survive, most of which are in the hands of collectors. About 9 years ago, one of them actually arrived at the Fed through normal banking channels! Someone had gotten hold of it (perhaps stored in a box in an attic somewhere), taken it to their local bank and deposited it. With a quick bit of research, they’d have discovered it was worth close to 10 times that to a collector.

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I’d love to make a few suggestions to the guys at the Money Museum as improvements, but since this is solely for PR (admission is free), I’m sure they are limited in how much they invest in the tour. Although considering the constant saber-rattling in Congress about the Fed, maybe they could use a bit stronger PR push.

One of my biggest pet peeves with 90% of museums is that no one really thinks about photos. Placement of light fixtures to minimize glare, setting up obstruction free angles and allowing guests the chance to pose without impeding traffic are critical factors for any museum and most of them don’t think that through.

Re-open the closed section of the tour. Money counting and shredding is one of the more fascinating things that happens at the Fed and no one gets to see it. I get it. 9/11 happened. But the security checks and procedures keep out bank robbers, so I’m sure they can be effective for other people, too.

Tell some stories. Interactive displays are all well and good, but you’ve got an asset like Jerry who has hundreds of stories in his arsenal. I’m the only one who heard any of them. Everyone else just heard him introduce the video and rattle off a lot of facts and figures.

Stories = excitement. Spend a little money and create a new video to share some of these stories in the context of explaining what the Fed does.

All unsolicited advice, of course, but I found the place fascinating and woefully under-utilized. As an average tourist, there just wouldn’t be a lot to hold my interest without some upgrades.

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hughiecampbelle · 5 years ago

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War Boy (John Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: John

Word Count: 1,682

Inspired By: Holiday by Dana Williams

Warning/s: abuse mention

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomimagines @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan

A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've ever written, which is pretty cool :) I never thought I'd be able to write something greater than 500 words. It's not my usual style, which is a little frustrating, but in the end I like how it turned out. I had no idea where it was going until the very end, and if that doesn't explain the writing process, I'm not sure what does! I'm super close to 200 fics/a third part of the fic masterlist and that's really exciting! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

Infidelity. Lust. Greed. Envy. He always wanted what wasn't his. A sin, if he believed in those kinds of things. If all the things he'd done in his lifetime weren't so much worse, he would have been afraid. But he wasn't. He should have been ashamed, guilty, pleading on his hands and knees to a bitter God for forgiveness, for understanding he wasn't deserving of, but he couldn't, he wouldn't, because he didn't feel bad. A man of crime, of impulse, sharing a bed with someone who slipped their ring off for him was the least of his worries. To anyone looking in, it would have seemed wrong, sick. It was. It should have seemed that way to him. But he watched from the inside, he knew what really was going on, the full story behind the locked windows and drawn curtains. There were things the rest of the world thought they knew, that they put their faith into, but only you and John knew what was really going on.

It wasn't about the sneaking, the secrets, it wasn't about revenge, getting back at him for all the things he ever did, all the things he put you through. It was about finally being wanted. It was about bloody fists. A heavy silence blanketed over the dinner table. A shove, a grin, a power dynamic. You loved him most when he wasn't around. Felt the most safe, the most adored when the space between you grew, the soil between you deepening, rotting. A man of war, who'd kissed her cheeks and cried when she fell instead of him. It should have been him in those trenches, in her arms. He'd told you that only once, his eyes restless, crazed, begging for one night of rest, too ashamed to admit in daylight. It should have been him, not the brave men beside him, not the innocent boys thrown into this without a second thought. It should have been his funeral, his shallow grave, his things distributed among friends, desperate for anything they could get their hands on. They'd be sad, of course, mourning another loss, but sad didn't matter when the world was ending.

It should have been him. And sometimes, you wished it was.

Someone you worshiped, someone you would have done anything for. That's what love made you believe. He was the light of your life, the reason of your very existence. A boy, then. Kids, you both were, blinded by something bigger than yourselves, something you thought could escape death herself, last a hundred lifetimes. Young, sweet, with summer in your veins. You were so naive. He was different before the war. Softer, tender, he was affectionate, drunk on the ideas of a future together. Married before he left, a ring around his finger when he stepped on that train. He'd lost it, somewhere along the line, and that should have been the first warning when he came back. They all changed, but not like him. The bombs, the guns, the shock of it settled in his gut, poisoning his blood. The fire of the explosives lived inside him. It slept when he did, but it was always looking for something to set it off.

The smallest spark would be enough.

Then it wasn't just anger, but rage. Wrath. A sea of red. Everything in his path needed to be destroyed regardless of the skin it wore. Shattered glass. Broken furniture. Holes in walls. Fabric ripped, or torn, or punctured. Even when he dreamed he clenched his fists, as if he were ready for a fight, a battle, that would never come. You were his favorite, though. Once a cherished item in his collection, sat on the top shelf for safe keeping, now you were nothing but a rag doll. Thrown around for his own entertainment. Bruised, bleeding, left to clean yourself up, mend your own wounds. Sometimes it was barely noticeable. Sometimes it wasn't. And that's when John came into your life.

An old friend, one he'd witnessed war with.

A visit. Simple, quick, a check up on someone he regretted losing contact with. Heard stories of someone special back home, someone who kept him going. From the second you saw him, though, you knew he was different. Careful eyes, all smiles and a wicked humor. He'd held on to that. With bloody nails, he wouldn't let her take that from him. He took notice of everything, whether or not you realized. The purple fingerprints in your skin. The badges under your sleeves. Your limp. The flinching, the bracing when a glass was set down too fast, too hard. John made a point to find his way in this part of Birmingham more often, knowing not only had the men changed, but their lives and families as well. It wasn't just the soldiers who suffered.

He became a source of comfort. Walking your husband home when he drank too much to remember where he lived, helping him up the stairs when his dead weight was too much to carry. It was his way of coping, his way of control. If he was too far gone to remember his own name, he couldn’t hurt anyone. Drown the demons in booze, forgetting how violent he could be when he was hungover. Passed out, leaving the two of you alone. You found yourself confiding in him, telling him things you never would have told anyone. Admitting to your own exhaustion, your own defeat, raising your white flag. You didn't have to explain the flinching, the hesitation to trust, all the little things he picked up on, all the things he'd seen too often. He was a man of destruction. Smashing his bottles, begging for a fight, starting them when no one else would. A form of self mutilation. Too many nights John spent taking care of the gashes in his face, of his open knuckles.

He was trying to beat the war out of himself. Scare it away. Make it rupture.

Sometimes he was unexpected. Knocking out of nowhere when your husband was at work. You should have known he wasn't looking for him. You should have known, but you didn't. And neither did he, inviting him for dinner, for drinks, any occasion. Before you knew it, you were spending every night together. Over the table, your laughs hushed, your words effortless. Learned more about him than you ever thought. A wife he loved, passed away. A brood of kids he fears he's not good enough for. A complicated family and a business with a license to kill. The thought of him, funny John with his quips and fast wit, with his endless supply of dirty jokes and filthy words, a father. You had a hard time picturing him reading bedtime stories or folding baby clothes. It was something you used to dream of, having kids. Not anymore, not with a man like that. You'd never forgive yourself, ruining an innocent life, raised in a field of landmines. It wouldn't be fair to them. You couldn't do that.

He brought them a few times. Pudgy fingers, toothless giggles, tales about school, about all the things they were learning, all the people they'd become one day. It did something to your home. Turned a lifetime of pain and fear into excitement, into joy. They didn't know what life had in store for them, the possibilities endless. Infinite. All of them wanting a piece of you, sitting on your lap, whispering all the secrets their father told them not to tell. He spoke of you often, or at least, that's what they said. John in his natural state, a child on his hip, another pulling him by the cuff. He was needed. That was more than you could say for yourself. A pain, an ache in your chest, watching your husband. Awkward, anxious, angry. Angry at little fingerprints across every surface. Angry at the noise, at the constant energy, the neediness. You knew he thought that was weak, to need someone. He couldn't stand to be near them.

He couldn't stand anything anymore.

John would have killed the man. If he were anyone else, he would have sliced him in half, make a godless man see heaven for himself. But he wasn't just anyone, they'd seen hell together. Walked through fire, spit in the face of the devil himself and lived to see another day. That was rare. It made a bond unlike any other. But that didn't mean he had to like him, that he had to approve of everything he did. Drunk together, one night, the last two at the bar. He never meant for it to get out. It was the whiskey talking. A single sentence, a threat in passing. If you ever hurt them again, I'll fucking kill ya. His words were slurred, and heavy between his teeth, but there was truth to them. He could have said something a lot worse. He could have told him he was undeserving of you, that he was fucked up to hurt you, to take you for granted. He could have said that he changed, that he wasn't the friend he was anymore, that he couldn't stand the sight of him. John could have admitted that he loved you, from the second he saw you, he loved you and he wanted to protect you, that he thought of you every single day.

But he didn't.

Instead he made a promise, an oath to you, to him. One he never wanted to go to through with. One he'd have to, he knew it. Now he was waiting across the street, ducking in the shadows, watching for him to leave, to go to the bar after another meltdown. The screaming could be heard through the neighborhood. It didn't matter who he used to be, this was him now. This was his fate. He should have listened to John that night, but he didn't, he didn't listen to anyone anymore, and now he'd face the end.

John just hoped you'd forgive him after all this.

#writing #john shelby #john shelby drabble #john shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders drabble #peaky blinders oneshot #john shelby x reader #john x reader #x reader #john shelby fic #peaky blinders fic #drabble #oneshot #x gender neutral #gender neutral #x gender neutral reader

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thebourbontruth · 5 years ago

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Here are my 2021 favorite Whiskey options you can find for every budget. You can’t go wrong with these. They’re reliable, won’t ever let you down mixing or neat. Gifts or not. You should be able to get these in most of the US or acquired from other areas easily if not. They should also be on shelves at normal msrp or lower.

Barrell Bourbon/Whiskey

Many options and variations but I love the Bourbon Batches most. Expect $80-$100 for regular releases, more for extra special things. Keep an eye out for the private selections done by stores with great private barrel reputations. Stock up because it’s inevitable consumers will catch on that the brand keeps getting major awards and big ratings. I love the no BS transparent presentation too.

Makers Mark

A classic. Very nice Wheated Bourbon doing things right for more than 50 years. Put it in an empty Van Winkle 10 bottle, no one will know the difference. Great price with legendary consistency.

Woodford Reserve

So solid, so consistent and good. Super job blending this. It doesn’t get the credit it deserves amoung whiskey geeks. Gift or an everyday drinker, it’s every versatile. One of my top go to’s at bars without many whiskeys or for a nice value. If you’re a fan of fruity, sweet, caramel profile this is it.

Elijah Craig

A long time favorite. My everyday drinker that can easily fool most whiskey snobs at costing twice the typical $30ish price.

Angels Envy Bourbon

Great for gifting, newer Whiskey people that want a more approachable sweater profile. Created by Lincoln Henderson, one of the greatest whiskey minds we’ve had.

Basil Hayden 80 Proof

Best Bourbon for the new Bourbon fan. At 80 proof it’s very friendly and smooth. I personally prefer this regular original version over the new or older versions. Don’t add water, ice or dilute in cocktails. Makes a nice gift for the non snob or pouring an 80 proof blind to one.

Old Forester 1920

Not a Bourbon fan secret any longer. Very solid great high proofer for all uses. Has become a store shelf favorite to so many.

Wild Turkey Rare Breed Bourbon and Rye

The WT brand rarely gets anything wrong. You’ll never go wrong with these higher proof bargains that should cost 2x.

Wild Turkey Kentucky Spirit

Nice for gifting and a very nice 101 proof hiding in plain sight.

Wild Turkey Russels Reserve 10 Year Bourbon

An awesome 10 year Bourbon for $30-$40, who can’t love that!

Wild Turkey Russels Reserve Single Barrel Rye

Best Single Barrel Rye you’ll ever find sitting on most store shelves waiting for smart people to buy them.

Four Roses Small Batch

90 proof. 6-7 year great everyday for everything at $30-$35. It will hold up to just about anything blind.

Four Roses Small Batch Select-see above, just add non-chill filtering and 7% more abv. Limited Distribution States are expanding.

Lot 40 Rye

If you find an old 2012 bottling grab it. Even the current release is solid for $35-$40. A rare Canadian Rye that’s 100% rye. This one is often in the store’s Canadian Whisky section rather than with the Rye’s.

Wilderness Trail-all types

The more I learn about them and their plans, I get more giddy over what’s coming. They have a million+++ dollar lab testing to make sure everything is as close to perfect as possible —it shows. Shane, Pat and staff are fanatics to make the best. Tomorrow’s Van Winkle and Willett. Get it until you can’t. In about half the states but expanding.

Hillrock-all types

Small true craft place on a New York farm growing grain and making Bourbon, Rye and Single Malt. Quality and tasty. Makes very nice gifts especially for those seeking something different with a rich look. Around $100.

Willett Noah’s Mill

Defies logic. The world is going crazy for Willett, especially Willett Family Estate (WFE) bottlings. January 2021 Willitt’s 100% own house made Whiskey turns 9 years old. Noah’s is currently pulled from Willett’s own best 7-8 year old barrels- soon to be a year older (written 12/20). When WFE rarely drops at retail or the Visitor Center, they are $200-$300 and sell out in minutes, not hours. At near barrel proof of 114.3 and around $45-$55 a bottle, how is Noah’s Mill on the shelves at all? Like I said, “Defies logic” and should. One of the best, most accessible bottles you can find today. Near barrel proof is a bonus. Half the cost of the similarly age/proof Bookers. Noah’s is allocated and if the label simply said “WILLETT Noah’s Mill” stores would be charging $300 per bottle for it. It won’t take much for this to be the next one you wished you bunkered a few cases of while you could.

Charbay R5 Whiskey

This one is the most interesting and unique whiskey you’ll ever have. US Regs require them to call this “Hop Flavored” but there is no flavoring added. Double distilled from bottle ready Bear Republic’s Racer 5 IPA. There is no way to accurately describe it. People tend to love it or not. Read up on it but having or gifting it will show your depth and appreciation for different styles of Whiskey. If you’re a hop head get it. Well stocked stores are likely to have it in distribution states. Ask a manager if they have it as I’ve tended to see it in many sections other than whiskey. Charbay’s one of the oldest craft distilleries in the US. Doing Brandy since 1983 and hop whiskey since 1999.

Larceny

A nice Wheated Bourbon from the legacy of the Weller brand and Stitzel Weller distillery. Made by Heavanhill in Louisville at the distillery built to replace the aging Stitzel Weller plant. Larceny was rebranded from Old Fitzgerald, this $25-$30 Bourbon is a great bargain. If your searching for Wheated Bourbon, Weller, and your good with 92 Proof, 6-9 years old, this is it. Every bit as good or better than Weller. Note-They have a full proof version that is much less likely to be on the shelf at MSRP.

Buffalo Trace

Good solid everyday Bourbon with the same mashbill and recipe of it’s sister brands at higher proof like the Stagg’s people are nuts for right now. One of the few Buffalo Trace made Bourbons that you can find and is good in taste and price.

Buffalo Trace Bourbon Cream

Another weird one to be one of my favorite Whiskies. Many people don’t know it exists. It’s got loads of uses for desert, in coffee, baking and just something different to the Bourbon lover. A great nightcap to decompress or to have “one more” especially before driving. Cheaper and much better than Bailey’s, a nice substitute to stick to Bourbon but a variation. Great gateway to the non-bourbon drinker also.

Old Forester 100 proof

Tasty $20-$25 choice with a good proof kick. Very solid and hiding in plain sight. Here’s the thing— truly authentic Whiskey aficionados don’t judge each other on the expensive over the top cult booze that they have/drink. They judge on their depth, choice and guts to drink something great that’s not cool or pretentious like this one. Well known to good bartenders as their secret weapon for an inexpensive Bourbon.

Rittenhouse Rye 100 Proof Bottled in Bond-

Everything I just said about Old Forester 100 is true for this one but in a Rye. If it were ever discontinued, American Bartenders would start crying. You won’t find a better $20-25 rye or whiskey. Super versatile.

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letterboxd · 5 years ago

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Green-Light Yourself.

As Merawi Gerima’s debut feature Residue lands on Netflix, he tells Gemma Gracewood about being the son of indie film legends, duty of care as a director, and why Akira is his go-to comfort movie.

Sometimes it’s impossible to move forward with your art until you’ve taken a good look back. In Merawi Gerima’s impressionistic and hypnotic first feature, Residue, a young man, Jay, returns from college on the West Coast to find that his Washington, DC neighborhood has been hugely transformed within a few short years. A white neighbor barks at him to turn his car stereo down. Familiar faces have disappeared. The gentrification is debilitating, but Jay’s efforts to work out his disorientation and rage through art meets opposition with old friends.

Like his lead character, Gerima is both a DC native and a graduate of a West Coast college (USC’s School of Cinematic Arts), and was similarly confronted by change when he got home. Making Residue was “absolutely something that I had to do because that was the only positive direction to pour my energies into,” he says. “I think that there was a lot of destructive potential in my life at that point. The film really was the first moment when I started to feel that I perhaps was not powerless in this situation.”

Derron “Rizzo” Scott as Mike in ‘Residue’.

Gentrification as a form of structural racism has long impacted Black communities, and Gerima is not the first in his family to cover this ground. His parents are the LA Rebellion filmmakers Haile Gerima, whose work includes the Golden Bear-nominated 1983 slavery drama Sankofa, and Shirikiana Aina, who documented changes to their DC neighborhood in her 1982 non-fiction short Brick by Brick.

Residue was a family affair; the Gerima name is all through the credits. “My aunts were the chefs; my sister, she was, like, the head of the catering.” Although his legendary father managed to get off lightly with Costco runs, Gerima’s equally impressive mother ended up anchoring two of the film’s most affecting scenes, as Tonya, the Mom of Jay’s childhood friend, Mike (Derron “Rizzo” Scott).

“I had somebody else cast—she was a no-show. My mother was on set that day, just kind of helping feed people. I knew that she had what we needed, emotionally speaking. She was actually trying to drive away to go find the woman; I was like, ‘Nah, I need you right now’. She did it, but at a great cost.” The thing about filming in your own neighborhood, Gerima explains, where you’ve raised not only your own but also everyone else’s kids, with varying outcomes, is you end up bringing that lived experience to your scenes. “It’s very real for her. She’s not acting. I almost cried once we finished filming. Nobody spoke for a long time.”

The scene taught Gerima much about a director’s duty of care—particularly when he dared to ask his mother for a second take of a pivotal scene that takes place in a downpour. “In preparing to shoot in the rain we made a few mistakes, with the camera, the placement, there was miscommunication with me and the DP [Mark Jeevaratnam]. I, he, we both agreed that we needed another take. When I asked my mother for another take, she just looked at us like, it hurt, it was painful to ask. She did what she could, but you could tell that she didn’t have it in her.” As it turns out, the first take was the one. “I thought we ruined everything, but once I slowed down, I just saw what a miracle it was.”

It’s impossible to separate Residue from its limited budget and circumstances. Structurally rich and technically unusual, the film is a triumph of local knowledge, happy accidents, and “hood auditions”, where people were pulled straight off the street into the cast. It’s infused with an all-hands-on-deck spirit, constructed scene-by-scene during a home edit by Gerima himself.

“We shot the first draft of the script. You know what I mean? We didn’t have time to wait for a rewrite. We didn’t have time to wait for money. We didn’t have time to wait for anything. In many ways, it was the source of many of our problems, but it was also the source of a lot of our freedom, because we weren’t tied down by money. We weren’t tied down by a locked-in script.”

Mark Jeevaratnam, Merawi Gerima (with camera), and Obinna Nwachukwu on the set of ‘Residue’.

At Slamdance this past January, Residue won the audience award, and an acting prize for its star, Obinna Nwachukwu, whose story is a lesson for other aspiring actors. He was right for the role (“He fit the bill in terms of, he knows DC lingo, he knows the culture, he’s from the area, which was incredibly important”). More importantly, he was available. “The fact that we didn’t have resources, we needed somebody like him. He wants to act. He designs his life in his way where he was able to give us two weeks without knowing much about us. Once we got him, everything else became a lot easier.”

After Slamdance, of course, 2020 took a bit of a turn. Residue was shortlisted for Cannes, but that was cancelled and in May Gerima told his college paper: “I think that the festival prospects for the rest of this year are getting dimmer by the day.” When we speak, however, he is in Venice, where his debut feature has just screened in the independent Venice Days section of La Biennale di Venezia. It turns out that Cannes Directors’ Fortnight head Paolo Moretti had put in a word with Venice Days. As 2020 goes, this is as good as it gets for new filmmakers—and is a beautiful demonstration of how the global festival community has pulled together to make something good out of the mess we’re in.

Likewise, Gerima is grateful to Ava DuVernay’s ARRAY Releasing, who made the Netflix deal. He notes that a Black-led distribution company is a luxury his parents never knew. “I think if Ava did not exist, our film probably would not have distribution. The broad imagination necessary to see the commercial potential of Black films is still not there. I’m often sad thinking about the fact that my parents had no such opportunity.” Like a scene straight out of Dolemite is My Name, Gerima describes how his folks would book their own theaters across the US and use the African diaspora to help fill them, “proving the commercial nature of these films, in communities that hungered for real Black stories”.

Merawi Gerima directs Jacari Dye on the set of ‘Residue’.

Gerima’s film appetite is wide, and he’s often looked outside the US for inspiration. Some of the most crucial films in his development as a director have been the 1968 post-revolutionary Cuban films Lucia and Memories of Underdevelopment. He is also a fan of La Lengua de las Mariposas (‘Butterfly’, 1999, José Luis Cuerda), which has “one of my favorite endings in film, period”. Japanese influences include Akiro Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) and Kaneto Shindo’s The Naked Island (1960) and he also looks to Chilean legend Miguel Littin and Soviet directors Andrei Tarkovsky, Sergei Eisenstein and Nikita Mikhalkov. His go-to comfort film? “Akira. I don’t know if it’s comfort, but I watch it all the time! I just think it’s one of the best films ever made.”

On the home front, an “incredible, important” American film is Ivan Dixon’s 1973 action drama The Spook Who Sat by the Door, while the movies that “really put me onto talking to girls” are Gina Prince-Bythewood’s Love & Basketball and Rick Famuyiwa’s The Wood. “These are the types of films, circulating within the Black community [that] we memorize the lines to. That set the sexual compass of Black adolescents, you know what I mean?”

‘Sankofa’ (1993), written and directed by Haile Gerima.

His parents, however, remain Gerima’s greatest influence. “Sankofa was made without arbitration. Black stories that have no minders like that, nobody to answer to, often are far and away, the most honest types of Black storytelling that we see in film.” For other storytellers yet to take the first step, he offers this: “My best lesson from this film has been to always and at all times green-light my own self, my own actions, because that’s the only thing that I can control—and to not wait for conditions to be right or perfect.”

Acknowledging the privilege of being born into a filmmaking family, Gerima adds: “That may not apply to everybody. There are many, incredible things which prohibit action at times. But I think that there are many incredible conditions under which people can take action with the camera. I think that it’s really just a matter of how urgently that story burns within you. I can only say for myself, that’s the way the film got made. Without that, it would have been literally impossible.”

When asked who we should watch next, Gerima recommends 200 Meters, written and directed by Palestinian filmmaker Ameen Nayfeh. (“He’s an incredibly poised and principled filmmaker.”) The film won the audience award at Venice Days. He also recommends Really Love by Angel Kristi Williams, which won a SXSW Special Jury Recognition for acting, and will feature as a Special Presentation at AFI Fest next month.

‘Residue’ is in select US theaters and on Netflix now. Follow Gemma on Letterboxd.

#merawi gerima #haile gerima #la rebellion #residue #netflix #netflix film #array #array releasing #ava duvernay #washington dc #washington dc films #usc #usc cinema arts #letterboxd

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starshineskyandthepowerofrock · 4 years ago

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Winter Break

Part 22 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

"Isn't there ice on the moon?" Star asks me as we untie our skates.

"Mm hm," I say. "But gravity isn't as strong as it is down here, so we can't really skate on it."

Sky bangs the heel of her skate on the pavement, knocking shimmery ice off the blade. "You'll get the hang of it."

"Well, thanks for at least trying to teach me, guys," I say.

We find Gossamer and Pearl sitting at one of the tables set up around the rink, hidden among lots and lots of bustling people in a rainbow of warm coats.

"Your drinks are getting cold," Gossamer says, handing us paper cups. The warmth that I'd hoped would help thaw my numbing fingers doesn't come when I take mine. Star and Sky both take sips only to pull back with grimaces.

"Yeah, this is basically chocolate milk," Sky says.

Star giggles. "I guess we were out there a bit too long." She starts standing up. "Here, why don't I-"

"I can get us some new ones!" I say.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Crescent," she says, patting me on the shoulder.

"No, really, I can! See?" I stand up and only stumble a little this time. "I'll be fine!"

She sits back down. "Okay, then."

Now that I'm looking, the nearest hot chocolate stand is a lot farther away than I'd been imagining. It wouldn't have been very far for Star, but for someone who had to go through months of training just to learn how to walk on this planet it's a bit more of a challenge. But that's no reason not to try!

Heel-toe heel-toe heel-toe- toe toe toe! I'm only an inch away from bumping into a fairy family but dodge them just in time. Heel-toe heel-toe- heel-heel toe-heel toe-heel toe-heel... I'm almost there!

"Oof!" I've bumped into someone! "I'm so sorry!" I tell her. She's bundled up to her eyes in red and black. "I- I'm still getting used to moving around down he-"

"It's fine," she says, brushing past me. But just before she and the pink-haired girl she's with leave, I catch a glimpse of their eyes, blood red against their pale skin. My heart skips a beat. But all they do is grab a couple hot chocolates and disappear into the crowd.

My breath quickens. What does this mean? Are we in trouble? Are they from the Band of Darkness? Should I tell someone? I think back to the raids that have happened this year alone. They usually happen while we're in class, but sometimes I catch glimpses of the destruction outside the classroom windows. When they happen on the weekends we'll be escorted into the palace and put on lockdown. Not to mention three of my band members have been attacked by them! Star and Gossamer have to hold each other when they catch word of another raid. Sky can keep a tough face but I see her shaking when it happens, too.

But... these vampires weren't doing anything, though. They just took some free drinks and left. Left to do what? I don't know. Drink them, I guess. One of the drinks I'm getting is for a vampire. Maybe they just want a hot chocolate on a cold day like she does. Maybe they aren't with the Band of Darkness like she isn't.

Oh, there's a crowd forming around me! I pick up five cups (it's a little complicated but I'll manage) and decide that if the alarm doesn't sound then we'll be fine.

🌙🌙🌙

Star has been inviting us to weekend spa days in her room ever since that one spa didn't let Sky in. I think the DIY face masks we're making are a lot more fun anyway. Today we're sitting in front of her fireplace in our robes taking turns smearing fruity-smelling slimes on each other's faces. Star doesn't like when I call them slimes but they sure feel that way to me. I think it makes them more fun!

"So, I invited Citrus, but he turned it down again," Star says, applying under eye patches to Sky's dark circles.

"Not all your friends will like each other," Gossamer says as she mixes some more charcoal into her bowl.

Star sighs. "Yeah, I guess... It's just gonna be so awkward for winter break, though! His whole band is going home but he's staying and so is Sky, so what am I supposed to do? I don't want either of you to be lonely."

"Don't worry, it takes a lot to get me feeling lonely," Sky says, already picking at one of the patches. "Plus, Crescent will be here to keep me company, woncha?"

"Mm hm!" I say. "The ship only lands to drop us off in the fall and pick us up in the summer, so I'll be right here!"

Gossamer sighs, now applying her charcoal mask to Pearl. "I wish I could stay, too. But elves are supposed to take our holidays very seriously. I'm already in it deep with my father as it is. If I disrespected our traditions any more I don't think I'd live to tell the tale."

"On the bright side, at least Summer is also in trouble with him for the arm thing," Star says. She stills Sky's hands and smooths out the patches. "So she'll be off your back, at least."

"For now," Gossamer sighs.

"I still don't get why you guys have to go all the way to the north pole for a holiday," Sky says. "What is it you guys do there again? Build stuff?"

Gossamer fans Pearl's face to help it dry and starts applying the rest of the mask to Star. "We make toys. A really long time ago there was an old elf who lived up there and found a portal to another dimension or something, and instead of using his knowledge to further investigate the existence of a wider multiverse he distributed handmade gifts to the children there once a year. So now all the elves make this big trek up north every winter to help his descendants finish that year's workload. Last year I made over 200 dolls."

"Wow," we all say, even Pearl. As the others' conversation shifts to winter holidays and multiverse theories, I can't help wondering what was going on with those vampire girls today. The alarm never did sound, so I can only guess they didn't hurt anyone. So why do I feel bad about not telling my friends about them? All I did was bump into them, really. That's hardly something to mention when I bump into people every day. But if I told them who I bumped into today, I know they'd freak. Right?

🌙🌙🌙

I'm still thinking about all this come next weekend, when the palace travels around the whole kingdom dropping off the students who'll be staying home for winter break. In Hillside, we take turns hugging Gossamer goodbye and try to help her load her luggage into one of the big flying sleighs that they'll be taking to the north pole. Summer and Star exchange dark glares. So do Mr. Glade and Sky. But nothing happens, probably because others were watching, so the Glades leave without a scene.

Once we get to the East Shore, it's time to wave off Pearl and the other merpeople. I'd really been hoping I would have known my own roommate a bit better at this point, but when we tell her bye it's still a bit awkward. She doesn't say much more than a little "Bye." She does let us stroke her horse's scaly neck, though. Then she hops on his back and rides into the sea with the others. A few moments later, shimmery green, blue, and purple tails flap above the surface before diving into Saline Deep.

Sky stays put a bit longer after they've all left. Star and I follow her sightline to the Isle of Isolation, a dark little blip on the clear blue horizon.

"I could make it back," she says.

"You know it's too dangerous," Star reminds her gently. "Who knows what they'll do with you once you're back in their territory? And if your family was found harboring you..." Sky's doing the thing where her face doesn't move. I can't tell enough what she's thinking to give any input but Star reads her eyes enough to say, "You won't be alone." She takes her gloved hand. "See?"

Sky gives a sad little smile. "I guess you're right." She turns to me and offers her hand. "Plus, I'm not the only homesick one here, I'm sure."

I raise my eyebrows, not really sure why I'm surprised by her saying this. "Oh!" I say. I take her hand. "Yeah, seeing the moon again would be nice."

🌙🌙🌙

On the moon, we don't sleep in beds but in rest chambers. They're these ceiling-to-floor air-sealed padded boxes that we float around in while we sleep. There's no blankets 'cause it's perfectly temperature-controlled. They can even play music! Or white noise, if that's your thing.

Mine here is super comfy! The pads are cotton candy colored, which I love! And it's the only place I have where the physics are anything like home. Home...

I wonder what I'd be doing on winter break if I'd went home. We don't really have winter there, or any other seasons, and there's no holiday around this time. It'd be nice to see my old friends, though. I haven't really thought about them a whole lot, 'cause every time I do I get sad that they're not here. My mom just told me that it'd be fine, 'cause I'd have new friends here. And she's right, but... It doesn't keep my chest from tightening a bit when I think about them.

They'd, um...

The thing was, we had a band, me and my moon friends. That was how I learned the drums. And it was super fun! Especially since they argued way less than my parents did. I preferred being out of the house drumming away as long as I could before I had to come home to hear either one announce again that they were leaving before deciding again that it was a bad idea...

Hm...

These thoughts aren't helping me sleep. It also doesn't help that I'm upside down. I right myself and try to think about something else.

Those vampire girls are an interesting thing to think about. There isn't much to work with, though. I've been thinking in circles about them for days now. Maybe I should just get some warm milk.

When I walk out to the living room, I find Sky holding her stuffed spider and nursing a steaming mug by the kitchenette. She has her earbuds in, but takes one out when she notices me.

"You can't sleep either?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Something like that. Warm milk?"

I nod and she puts another mug in the microwave.

"School breaks are usually when I kill my sleep schedule," she says, watching the mug spin. She takes it out and hands it to me. "I may be done with sleep for the night."

I blow and sip. "I'm still trying to start."

She sucks air through her teeth. "I know that feeling. Something bothering you?"

I shake my head, guilty about not telling her but not enough to, well, tell her. But maybe there is something she can give me perspective on. "I've just been wondering about stuff."

"Like what?"

"Well... Is it normal for monsters to come to the Land of Light?"

She tilts her head, not smiling anymore. "Why do you ask?"

"O-oh, it's not about you, I get why you're here. I was wondering more about, um. See, the thing is I, uh. I saw some vampires the other day. When we were skating?"

She furrows her brow a bit. "Uh huh?"

"And they just took some hot chocolate and left, you know? Without doing anything else. So I was curious if monsters come here a lot. For, like. Not war reasons."

Sky takes her time finishing her milk before answering my question. "It's not normal, that's for sure. I mean, we haven't been straight-up banned from coming in the Land of Light since, like, fifty years ago." She gestures to herself. "Clearly. But I've never met a monster that wanted to come here for, like, a vacation or something. We're usually taught to think of this place as enemy territory. So, I can't tell you what that was about."

I want to ask further but worry about bringing up memories from earlier this year. "You don't think they were... um..."

"With the Band of Darkness?"

I nod.

She thinks for a bit. Then she shrugs. "Can't tell you."

Well, that's not very helpful.

Sky stretches her shoulders and heads for her bedroom. "Ah well, I'm sure it's nothing," she says on her way out. I'm about to go back to my own room when I notice her come back out with a notebook in her hands.

"What's that?" I ask.

She looks up, surprised I'm still here. "Huh? Oh, uh... just writing something."

"Another song?"

She nods.

"Can I hear?" I ask.

"Uh..." Sky scratches the back of her head, backing away.

"You don't have to," I say. Oh no, I've messed up! "It's okay, really!"

Sky relaxes a bit. "Thanks."

🌙🌙🌙

Just when I'm finally drifting off to sleep, I'm woken up by a knock on the door to my rest chamber. The world is diagonal, almost upside down when I open my eyes, so I make sure to right myself so my feet can touch the floor when I turn off the antigravity and open the door to Sky.

"I wanna show you something," she says. She leads me out of my room and surprises me by making her way for the door to the hallway.

"I thought we couldn't leave our dorms after sundown," I say.

"We can. We just aren't allowed to." She cracks open the door. Then in a puff of dark red smoke she's turned into a bat. Hovering in front of my face she whispers, "Stay in the shadows," and slips through the crack. I push the door open a bit further and tiptoe out behind her.

My heart goes pitter-pat with excitement as I creep along, keeping close to the wall and in the darker areas like Sky said. She flaps her way into the First Year girls' common room, who's door has been left ajar. When I open it to step in behind her, she's already back to her normal self.

"There's no cameras in here. I've checked," she says.

My eyes drift to the piano. There's Sky's notebook, open to reveal some sheet music. I gasp. "Are you gonna play your song for me?"

"What?" Sky says. "Oh, no, I just thought you could answer a question I've got." She does a "come here" thing with her fingers and leads me to a far corner of the room. Between a bookcase and a TV set is a patch of wall that's... shimmering? And now that I'm closer, it sounds like there's a low hum coming from it, too.

"What is that?" I ask.

"I thought you'd have an idea," she says. "Started going like that while I was playing. Magic tech where I come from isn't anything like here or the moon, so, I was hoping you'd be able to explain what I'm looking at here."

"I don't even know what I'm looking at!"

Sky crosses her arms. "Well then." She walks back over to the piano and picks up a pencil sitting next to her notebook. "Let's find out." She tosses it at the wall. It disappears with the tiniest burst of sparkles.

"Where'd it go?" I ask, my heart going even faster now.

"Huh," is all Sky says back. She's stroking her chin. Then she reaches her hand out.

I grab her arm. "Hold on, I don't want you to get hurt!"

She pats my hand before gently lifting it from her arm. "I'm a vampire, remember? Unless this thing's made outta garlic or something I think I'll be alright." When her hand gets close to the shimmers, a couple glittery crackles make her pull back for a sec. But she reaches out again. At first she tries resting her hand on the wall, but then it pushes right through!

Sky turns to me, as shocked as I am.

She pulls her hand back out, and now it's covered in pale pink and lavender sparkles. "What the hell?"

"It's a portal!" I say.

"To where?"

Our eyes tear from her hand and meet. The same thought makes us both smile in dangerous excitement. I guess neither of us are sleeping tonight.

#vampire #magical girl #magical school #winter #ice skating #moon rabbit #fantasy story #fantasy writing #vampire oc #original characters

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mrgan · 5 years ago

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Neven’s Pan Pizza

Pan pizza is the best pizza you can make in a typical home oven. It’s also a style that’s tricky to find in restaurants (though it’s becoming more popular.) That means you should make it, and I’m here to help. This is my simple, flexible, delicious recipe.

(Before we begin, have you seen my thin-style pizza recipe? It’s a good idea to read it even if you’re here primarily for the pan pie.)

Neven’s Pan Pizza

Servings: one 9 x 13” (or 10 x 14”) pizza Time: 3.5 hours (mix and proof) + 1 to 3 days (fridge-ferment) + 6 hours (final proof) + 25 to 40 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

175 g all-purpose flour

75 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)

5 g (2%) salt

50 g (20%) ripe sourdough starter, fed and doubled and ready

200 g (80%) water

~2 tbsp olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

Put all the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer outfitted with the dough hook and stir with a spatula to combine. Add the starter and about 2/3 of the water. Start the mixer on low speed and mix for 1 minute; add the rest of the water, and mix for 4 more minutes. Switch to medium speed and mix for another 5 minutes. If at any point the dough threatens to crawl out of the bowl, stop the mixer and scrape the mess back down into the bowl. The dough will be wet and sticky—not to worry, that’s what 80% hydration looks like.

Scoop the dough out into a new bowl (wider, shallowe, preferably non-metal.) Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rest in a warm spot for 3 hours. (70–74°F? An oven that was on for two minutes before being turned off is a good environment.) Every 30 minutes or so, fold the dough—just go around the edge of the dough with a flexible spatula and fold the outside in, like a scared starfish. You’re just trying to redistribute the dough to make it nice and smooth.

Grab a 9x13 nonstick sheet pan, with sides at least 1.5″ tall. (See below for a list of my preferred equipment.) Pour in 1.5 tbsp olive oil—about two glugs—and spread it around. (If your pan is truly nonstick, you don’t have to be thorough here; if it’s not, cover every damn millimeter with oil. Not a lot of oil, just complete coverage.) After the 3 hours have passed, move the dough into the pan. Gently scrape it into the middle of the pan, then flip the dough over so both sides are oiled. Flatten it just a tad and leave it alone. It won’t come close to filling the pan, and that’s ok. Now’s the time for it to go to sleep in the cold: cover your pan tightly and move it to a fridge shelf for 1-3 days.

6 hours before baking, remove the pan from the fridge and set it on the counter. Feel free to sneak a peak at the dough: it looks about the same, yeah? Now watch it spread out and blow small bubbles in the coming hours, especially if you give it a nice, warm environment again.

Preheat your oven at 500ºF for at least half an hour, with your rack somewhere around the lower middle; all ovens vary, so adjust as needed after you see your finished pie’s top and bottom bakes.

To stretch the dough: uncover the pan and oil your fingers with the olive oil pooled in the corners. Now gently dimple the dough and watch for bubbles—cool, yeah? Spread it softly from the middle, grabbing the dough corners and lifting them into the pan corners if needed. Your dough will be very soft and may seem uneven, but don’t sweat it; just patch any holes without massaging the dough too much.

Topping time! Please place on your pizza whatever you like. Pan pies generally work better with cheese on the bottom. Also, try not to overtop it because that fluffy, fluffy dough needs to be able to rise—too much weight on top will prevent it from doing so. Remember that you can add a lot of stuff after baking—including tomato sauce!

So, line the dough with cheese. My preference is to use sliced mozzarella or provolone, though shredded or cubed will also work. Add extra cheese into the corners of the pan, so it bakes up into an irresistible cheese crust. Spoon cooked tomato sauce on top (in a hip diagonal pattern if you want to look fashionable on Instagram) and add any other toppings.

Bake for 12-16 minutes, rotating half way through. Watch the pie carefully in the last few minutes. Oh, did I mention—crank your vent hood because the cheese will burn and smoke, beautifully so.

When your pizza looks good enough to elope and start a new life in Mexico with, pull it out using decent oven mitts. Give it a minute to come to its senses, then go around the rim with a thin, non-scratchy tool—like a plastic knife or a small spatula—to release the cheese and sauce from the pan. It shouldn’t be much of a struggle if you used a good pan. Now dexterously slip an offset spatula or a burger flipper under one (narrow) side of the pizza and transfer it to a cooling rack.

If you’re feeling particularly naughty, shower the finished pie with finely grated parmesan cheese. I won’t tell anyone.

Give your pizza 5 minutes to rest—ok, ok, you have my permission to cut it after 2 minutes. Move to a cutting board and have at it with a large, sharp knife.

- - - END OF RECIPE - - - - - - ADDITIONAL INFORMATION AND ANECDOTES BELOW - - -

Just a reminder that my thin-style pizza recipe has more info about technique and ingredients and such, and I’m not going to repeat it all here like an aging musician running out of inspiration and covering their heyday hits to pander to the old fans.

Questions? Comments?

I don’t even have a sourdough, man.

It’s like, month three of quarantine—what have you been doing with your time?

Alright, alright.

Neven’s Pan Pizza for Non-sourdough Folks Who Nevertheless Deserve Our Love and Respect

Servings: one 9 x 13 (or 10 x 14) pizza Time: 3.5 hours (mix and proof) + 1 day (fridge-ferment) + 2 hours (final proof) + 25 to 40 minutes (shape, top, and bake)

INGREDIENTS:

175 g all-purpose flour

75 g high-gluten or bread flour (or all-purpose flour)

5 g (2%) salt

3 g (~1%) instant yeast (half a package thingy)

200 g (80%) water

DIRECTIONS:

Stir all the dry ingredients well in a large bowl, then add the yeast and water and stir again, using a silicone or wood spatula. When it starts coming together, pour in the olive oil and work it in. No need to get it smooth; just mix until there’s no dry flour on the bottom. Cover tightly with plastic wrap.

Every 30 minutes in the next 2 hours, fold it: slide the spatula under one side and fold it over toward the middle. Do 4-6 folds like this in one session. No need to be picky about the 30-minute timing, just shoot for 2-4 fold sessions in the first few hours of proofing, to distribute everything well.

Cover and leave out at room temperature for 12-18 hours. Just go to bed, don’t worry about it. You’ve worked hard all day.

The next day, the dough should look huge and bubbly. Does it? Oh, good. Now proceed with the above recipe from the pan-oiling step: move it to a pan, give it 1-2 hours to relax, stretch it, etc.

But I don’t have a stand mixer.

(I couldn’t find a gif of Donald Pleasance in Wake in Fright (1971) so this still image will have to do.)

Look, it’s fine. Read the above no-sourdough steps. No mixer needed. You can just do that, even when using sourdough—maybe halve the amount of sourdough starter. (It’s potent stuff.)

And now, a chaser for that hot hot image above.

Shop Talk

My attorneys have advised me to disclose that the links below include my referral code, which will make me even filthier rich than I am currently. (How rich am I? I make my own pizza, that’s how rich.)

LloydPans Detroit Style Pizza Pan. These are just tremendous—wonderfully made, perfectly nonstick, stackable. Ideal for pan pizza, focaccia, and many other bakes.

Detroit Style Pizza Pan Lid. Not at all required, but if you get serious about this pan pizza business, the lids are great because they’re reusable and they let you stack several pans in the fridge. (Note that you can bake two of these pizzas side by side in a typical oven. That’s what I do. Yes, it’s because I eat one whole pizza myself.)

Cooling rack. I can’t stress enough the importance of cooling and resting your pizza—thin or thick, before it’s had a chance to release all that steam, it’s still kind of a wet mess of a casserole.

The End

I realize some folks still think that thin vs. thick is an interesting pizza debate to be having in the 2020s, but I hope they can move on and get into all the pizza styles out there. Pan pies are so good. See for yourself.

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years ago

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The Final Agni Kai (A Terrible AU Fanfic that literally no one asked for!)

This was totally going to be the battle between Sie and Zuko in the cabbage fic but I couldn't pass having the fire siblings do this.

Summary: Agni Kai AU where instead of actually fighting the Agni Kai, Zuko and Azula play a monoply-uno hybrid from Hell.

The sky is heavy with smoke and an odor of sulfur. Sozin’s comet paints the mid-afternoon sky a shade of orange-red. Azula, stares up at said sky--she is daydreaming about just leaving everything behind to become a J-pop idol.

“By decree of Phoenix King Ozai, I now crown you Fire Lord…” But it is hard to do that when the fire sage keeps blabbing on and on. And it is twice as hard when a wild flying bison swoops into view. Suddenly feeling as though she has run out of time, she turns to the sage and asks, “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

Azula had been rather vague so he isn’t sure what he is supposed to just do. All he knows is that he can’t let his dreams just be dreams. Just do it! Azula’s voice echos in his mind. But in his mind she sounds more motivating than angry.

Appa lands in the courtyard and Zuko dramatically jumps off of him. “Sorry, but you're not gonna become Fire Lord today. I am.”

Azula laughs, “you're hilarious.”

“And you're going down.” Zuko informs her.

“That was my line.” Katara whispers.

“Sorry.” Zuko replies.

The fire sage, recalling Azula’s words--just do it!--begins to ignore the interrupting duo and brings the crown closer to Azula’s messy topknot.

She lifts a hand and then the rest of her body. “Wait!” And then to Zuko she says, “You want to become Fire Lord? Fine. Let’s settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. Monopl-uno!” She whips out a game board and a deck of cards and slaps them onto the ground.

“You're on!”

“What are you doing? She’s playing you. She knows she can't take us both, so she's trying to separate us.”

“I know. But I can take her this time.” Zuko declares.

“But even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula.” Katara protests. Also she does not want to have to wait through a game of Monopoly, that game is boring as hell even if it is mashed together with Uno.

“There's something off about her, I can't explain it but she's slipping.” Zuko rubs his chin as he takes in the disheveled sight of his sister. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are tired. “Hmmm...can’t quite put my finger on it.” She flashes him an uncanny and feral smile. “Nope. No idea.” He makes his way across the courtyard.

He and Azula stand on opposite ends of the courtyard, kneeling as you do before beginning a game of monopl-uno. It is always best to start any board, card, or any kind of game by kneeling before your God and asking for protection lest the game transform itself into Jumanji and you find yourself stuck in a jungle forever.

This is what had happened to Jet. He has been stuck in the Foggy Swamp, which is also a jungle, ever since. He is now a backwater redneck. But this is no surprise being as he already liked to chew on straw prior to being transported into the jungle to live out the rest of his fuqboi existence.

“I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother.”

“No you're not.”

But she really is. She actually hates monopl-uno, in her foggy state of mind, she had momentarily forgotten this. But she cannot back out of this now. “I am so.” She whispers quietly.

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are to.”

“Are…”

Luckily Katara is there to get them back on track. The only thing more boring than Monopoly is reading approximately six pages of ‘are not’, ‘are too’. Even more boring than that is pre-algebra. Thank Raava, that math does not exist here. “Will you two just get on with it!?” She asks.

Azula passes out five uno cards and a fat stack of monopoly cash. For every green card, the player receives $500. For the blues the player gets $100. Yellow cards earn the player $50. And red earns the player $20. 10’s & 5’s are a free for all, Azula and Zuko snatch as many as they can. 1’s are distributed by wiping out a Candyland, whoever draws Queen Frostine gets to steal all of the 5’s. Azula bites Zuko as he reaches for the last one dollar bill. He retracts his hand quickly.

It settles in that Azula is losing her shit.

If no one draws Queen Frostine by the game’s end then the 1’s burst into flames and are claimed by the void that manifests itself as a third player in the form of a sentient piccolo, that plays truly awful covers of Rammstine’s Du Hast and Smashmouth’s All Star the whole time.

With dread, Azula notes that, “Colonel Mustard has murdered Mrs. Scarlett with a candlestick in the billard room.”

Zuko grips his head in stress, knowing that this means that Azula has to move her gingerbread man to the next purple square. This ends the game.

No one has drawn Queen Frostine.

The 1’s burst into flames and a piccolo rises.

The first notes of Du Hast echo through the courtyard, terribly off key.

Katara has a wicked urge to puncture her own earholes just to end the madness.

Why did Colonel Mustard have to murder her with a candlestick. If he would have just used the wrench then they might have had a chance to draw Queen Frostine!

Far, far off in the distance Sokka, Suki, and Toph fight a different kind of battle. They play Battle Ships, but they use actual ships. Except the ships are not water ships but airships and they are in the sky and the bombs are real.

Suki is uncomfortable with this.

It is Toph’s time to shine. She can use echolocation to cheat.

Aang and Ozai also fight. But their fight is different. It is a battle of wit. They have chosen several popular debate topics including women’s rights, religion, which economic model to follow, and whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza.

Pineapple does not belong on pizza.

Neither does cheese, because cheese is gross.

In fact, pizza does not belong on pizza because pizza is gross and no matter what Aang is still a vegan and Aang is not sure if a good vegan should be eating pizza.

Iroh finds himself a tall mountain and yodels atop it until the militia stationed at Ba Sing Se submit.

But none of this is as important as Azula declaration, “go fish!”

Zuko cusses and picks up a goldfish. He curses again. Drawing a goldfish means that he has to pull a block from the jenga tower and that rickety thing is already very close to collapsing. Azula smirks as he nears an old and vacant house in Capital City. It is the same one that they have been stealing boards from since they were children.

It is on its last legs.

A bead of sweat drips down Zuko’s forehead as he tugs at the board. The whole house bobs precuriously. Azula and Katara take several huge steps back. They, in fact, stand approximately one-hundred feet from the building, which is a safe number when practicing social distancing.

Zuko yanks the board free and the building groans. He clenches his jaw. But the building remains up right.

“Ha! Take that, Azula!” He says loudly. The building shakes at the sudden noise and it topples. He has done this to himself. Now he has to draw six more uno cards and one more go fish card.

“So, how have you been?” Zuko makes small talk as they walk back to the coronation courtyard.

Azula thinks that it is a stupid question, she is obviously in a state of mental torment. “Oh, I’m fine.” She replies nonchalantly.

“Yeah, me too.” He replies. “I read this really cool book the other day.”

Azula hasn’t, she has been stress eating cherries and pacing around her bedroom. “I read one too.” She lies.

“Which one.”

“Oh...you’ve never heard of it. It’s a really underground novel.”

They reach the courtyard, Zuko draws his uno and go fish cards. It is still his turn so he rolls the dice. “Yahtzee!” He declares and Azula flinches. She moves her gingerbread man to an orange square and picks up a trivial pursuit card. She relaxes a little, upon remembering that she is a trivial pursuit expert.

“What’s the tallest piece on a chessboard?” Katara reads the card.

Azula rolls her eyes, this is an easy one. “It is the King.”

Zuko Googles the answer just to be sure that Azula isn’t lying again.

Katara winces, “correct.”

Azula flashes a smug smile as she passes go and collects $200. She is glad that she did not have to answer a Guess Who question. Those always throw her off.

Zuko stands up, it is his turn. He throws down a green skip. This time Azula curses. He then throws down a green reverse card so it is his turn again. Azula snarls. He realizes that he has no more green cards so he picks up a Go Fish card. It is an angelfish. Angelfish act as substitutes for yellow cards so he is stuck with it. Having none of her own, but having the mindstate of one, Azula literally turns herself into a wildcard and flops down onto the deck. She changes it to blue.

She always changes it to blue.

She has no blue cards, but she never changes it to anything but blue.

She reclaims her human form and draws a Go Fish card.

It is a clownfish.

Which makes sense because she played herself (clownfish substitute red cards only), she is the clown in this situation.

Zuko smirks and throws down a blue seven.

Azula is about to throw down a blue three, when Zuko brazanly shouts. “No draw fours today? What’s the matter, afraid I’ll reverse it!?”

“Oh! I’ll show you a draw four!” Azula shouts. She lifts her blue drawfour as well as four scrabble tiles--one for each letter of her name, except she is missing the ‘u’ so instead she has Azla--and powers her draw four up with them.

A is the first letter of the alphabet so Zuko has to not only draw four cards but another two extra. And since Z is the last letter he also has to draw twenty-six extra cards. By this time the deck has run low so he has to pick up a twelve of spades which amounts to twelve green uno cards.

To figure out what number each represents they must spin the twister spinner and consult the magic eight ball.

“Nooooo!” Zuko screams as she throws the cards down.

Katara bites her cheek. She doesn’t like cheating to win, but she is pretty sure that Azula had swapped out her ‘u’ scrabble tile for a ‘z’ while Zuko was messing with the Jenga tower. So she doesn’t think too much of it when she completes Zuko’s Connect Four line.

“Zuko!” She yells. “You forgot to say, ‘I’ve united the four!’”

Zuko pumps his fist and says. “I’ve united the four!” This nullifies the power up Azula has used on her draw four. It balances out so he only has to draw four uno cards.

Azula’s face bunches up in disgust as she gives the twister spinner a flick.

Right hand on blue.

She places her right hand on blue and the twister board tells her to move her top hat to the chance square. Katara picks up the chance card and reads “go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.”

Azula blinks several times. She is trapped, with nowhere to go. She sadly makes her way over to the grate, overwhich they have constructed a jail out of a cardboard box. The word ‘JAIL’ (though Zuko accidentally spelled it ‘JAYL’ at first so that was crossed off and ‘JAIL’ is written beneath it) is written in big red marker. Katara doodled a star under it in pink gel pen.

Azula sadly lifts the box and sits under it, clutch her knees to her chest as Zuko passes go, collets his $200, and uses it to buy a candyland card. A smile lights up his face, he has drawn Gramma Nut! That means he gets to discard exactly three uno cards.

He sets them on fire and shouts “uno!”

He throws his remaining card, a blue five, onto the deck.

From within her jail cell, Azula shrieks. She sets the jail on fire, marches up to the unused chessboard, flips it over, and throws the pieces at Zuko “I hate this game! This is a stupid fucking anyways!”

Zuko and Katara slap each other high five. Unbeknownst to them, Momo swoops down. “But you forgot to play Bop It before saying uno, which means that your victory is null.”

Zuko slaps his forehead.

Azula’s eyes grow wide.

This means only one thing…

One terrible thing…

Azula swallows as she removes Don’t Wake Daddy from the box. The siblings stare at each other. If at any point, daddy wakes up, Ozai will materialize before them and win the game. “Here, you do it!” Zuko says to Azula. She very carefully takes the tweezers and as steady as she can, attempts to extract the wrench representing the funny bone.

But Azula is already shaken from her loss and the stress of losing her friends. She accidently touches the rim and the game buzzes.

She and Zuko weep as they both take turns pressing the alarm clock. Daddy springs up and Ozai appeared before them to reclaim his Fire Lord crown. In leaving his debate, Aang has automatically won. Ozai’s bending yanks itself from his body, as he had bet it before the debate started. Aang cheers!

Another airship explodes as Toph cackles.

Ozai begins to weep for he might be the Fire Lord again, but he has no fire.

Neither Zuko nor Azula are the Fire Lord. They both hug each other and cry as Katara plugs her ears.

The piccolo still plays Rammstine.

Ozai also cries because, even though he is Fire Lord in title, no one is going to listen to him since he is a non-bender. The Fire Nation will fall into anarchy unless the siblings can work something out.

Aang also weeps because her realizes that, Ozai is still the Fire Lord so he is still going to have to defeat him somehow.

Truly, nobody has won here.

Nobody except Iroh and Toph.

#Avatar #Azula #Zuko #Agni Kai #Katara #Alternate Universe #Fanfiction

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phinnsyreads · 5 years ago

Audio

FROM: Dr. Arthur █. █████ TO: Director Maria Jones, Recordkeeping and Information Security Administration (RAISA) SUBJECT: Revision of SCP-076 SCP File

Director Jones,

I have to go on record as saying that I seriously object to the proposed revisions of the SCP-076 Special Containment Procedures File. I know that Redact All Important Stuff Already claims it's a security risk, but you and I both know it's just top brass trying to sweep their biggest and most embarrassing mistake ever under the damn rug. Omega-Seven happened. It existed. Those people died because you screwed up, and you can't change that, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

For God's sake, man, those people guarding him deserve to know exactly what he is and what he did. What WE did. How we fucked up, so they'll know better.

---

Item #: SCP-076

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Containment Area 25b is to be located 200 m below sea level, tunneled out of solid bedrock in a seismologically stable area. Sole access to the containment facility is to be through a vertical elevator shaft separated every fifty (50) meters with a reinforced blast door, constructed of 20 cm thick material shielding. Elevator shaft shall be flooded with seawater when not in use.

Containment Area 25b is to be constructed with the following components:

An Outer Security Perimeter against outside threats, staffed by security personnel trained in close quarters battle and counter-intrusion tactics.

An Administrative and Support Area (ASA) consisting of support facilities and living quarters for on-site personnel.

A Primary Containment Zone (PCZ), consisting of a 7 m cube encased in 1.5 m of reinforced material. PCZ is to be designed to be flooded and drained as needed, and should remain filled with seawater unless access to contents is required.

A 150 m "killing corridor" which is to be the sole access to the PCZ from the ASA (including water, power, drainage, and ventilation lines). The walls and floor of the corridor are to be reinforced in a similar manner to the PCZ, with the addition of an electric deterrence system capable of delivering a 20,000 volt shock.

A security station located at the entrance to the killing corridor is to be staffed with no fewer than three (3) armed security personnel on watch at any one point in time. Armament is to include, but not be limited to, at least one (1) ███████ CIW system on a pintle mount with a clear line of sight down the corridor, with a plexiglass screen to protect the operator from thrown weapons.

In the event of a full breach, all on-site staff are to proceed immediately to the closest security station for weapons and armor distribution. Staff will remain at Alert Condition One until SCP-076-2 is confirmed neutralized. Should 90 minutes pass after declaration of full breach without a Stand Down order being given by Level 4 or higher personnel, Final Contingency Measures will be activated, flooding the entire facility in seawater and sealing off the access shaft for a minimum of 24 hours before retrieval is attempted. This will, by necessity, result in the deaths of all on-site staff.

Description: SCP-076 consists of two components: a stone cube (SCP-076-1) and a humanoid entity contained within (SCP-076-2).

SCP-076-1 is a 3 m cube made of black speckled metamorphic stone. All surfaces outside and within SCP-076-1 are covered in deeply engraved patterns corresponding to no known civilizations. Radioisotope analysis indicates that the object is approximately ten thousand (10,000) years old. A door is located on one side, sealed with a lock 0.5 m in width, surrounded by twenty (20) smaller locks in a circular pattern. As of yet, none of the keys have been found, making the door impossible to lock once closed.

Interior temperature is approximately 93 Kelvin, and cannot be altered by any means, internal or external. Directly in the center of the room is a 2.13 m tall stone coffin, held in place and sealed shut by several chains of unknown make and substance, which are attached to the inner corners of SCP-076-1.

SCP-076-2 resembles a lean Semitic human male in his late twenties. Hair is black, and eyes are gray, skin tone olive. Subject is 1.96 m in height and 81.65 kg in weight. Numerous tattoos depicting arcane and occult iconography are present all over the body (mostly in the form of leering demonic faces) and range from subtle to openly ostentatious. Subject, when encased inside SCP-076-1, is technically dead.

However, occasionally SCP-076-2 will awaken, effectively "reanimating", complete with all vital processes needed to sustain a living human being. Subject will then attempt to leave SCP-076-1. If successful, subject will enter a trance state and seek out the nearest human being, ignoring all other living things in the process. Upon coming into contact with living humans, SCP-076-2 will enter a rage state in which it attempts to engage and kill all human beings encountered. To date, only the subject's death has been shown to be effective in ending these rampages.

Terminating SCP-076-2 is often problematic due to its significant physical abilities. Subject has superhuman strength and speed, and although not invulnerable, has shown a remarkable ability to ignore pain and shock, pressing on despite what would be debilitating wounds in normal humans. Prior encounters have shown that SCP-076-2 has the ability to (among other things):

Rip through a reinforced steel security door over the course of four (4) minutes of sustained assault.

Clear over 64 m of distance in under three (3) seconds.

Take multiple .50 caliber BMG rounds to the head and survive for several minutes to continue killing, despite severe damage to the cerebellum.

Swat handgun and assault-rifle caliber bullets out of the air with a length of steel rebar.

Survive for over one (1) hour deprived of oxygen before finally asphyxiating.

SCP-076-2's most unusual ability, however, is its ability to apparently materialize bladed weapons out of nowhere. Slow-motion video footage reveals that the blades in question are actually pulled from a miniature dimensional rift described as a "small hole in space." Where these portals lead is unknown, as is how SCP-076-2 is capable of generating them. Footage of the blades in question shows them to be made out of a completely non-reflective black material appearing as a "black void in space." As the blades rapidly vanish after leaving the subject's possession, no structural analysis is possible at this time.

SCP-076-2 has effectively been killed several times in various manners:

Sustained fire from multiple heavy-caliber machine guns.

Asphyxiation.

Crushed beneath a 13.6 metric tonne piece of elevator equipment for use on SCP-076-1.

Cremation through the use of a Thermate-TH3 grenade placed directly inside SCP-076-2's open chest cavity.

During the worst breach to date, Containment Area-25 (which previously housed SCP-076) was forced to detonate its on site warhead as a last attempt to contain SCP-076-2 while it was attempting escape, resulting in total destruction of the site and all on-site personnel. SCP-076-1 survived.

Upon death, SCP-076-2's remains will putrefy rapidly, until reduced to dust. SCP-076-1 and the coffin within will then slam shut with great force, and the lock will rotate, sealing it shut. SCP-076-2 will then reform within the coffin, a process taking anywhere from six (6) hours to twenty-five (25) years.

What posthumous analysis of SCP-076-2 exists shows that it has a internal system highly different from our own, documented in [DATA EXPUNGED].

Additional: SCP-076 was found in ████████████, Mongolia, in 18██, by archaeologists from England. All members of the expedition were subsequently killed on the return voyage home. SCP-076 was recovered from the ship █████ ███████ by the ███████ Society (one of the organizations that later merged into the modern Global Occult Coalition) and placed on display in their Inner Sanctum.

SCP-076 remained in storage for ███████ (██) years, until SCP-076-2 became active and escaped on ██-██-████. The reason for SCP-076's activation is currently unknown, but it was at this point that the keys to the outer shell were lost. A massive manhunt, lasting over three (3) years and ████ ███████, took place until SCP-076-2 was incapacitated by ██████████ ███████, killing it and causing it to reform inside SCP-076-1, by then retrieved and secured by agents of the SCP Foundation.

Subject was in custody for three (3) more years, under constant supervision, and was terminated whenever it became active, although it occasionally was able to escape for short periods of time, often due to security breaches caused by attacks from other organizations. The Foundation's death toll due to this was [DATA EXPUNGED]

[DATA EXPUNGED]

After the last incident, the current procedures regarding SCP-076 were implemented, although they are upgraded regularly with the increase in technological standards.

------------------------------------------

Addendum 076-2: "Project Abel" and "Mobile Task Force Omega-7"

!CLASSIFIED!

All information regarding Project Abel and Mobile Task Force Omega-7 ("Pandora's Box") are classified Q Clearance by order of the O-5 Council. By proceeding, you are acknowledging that you have clearance to view these files, and that you have received Need to Know permission from the appropriate Level 4 or higher authority.

FROM: Director Maria Jones, Recordkeeping and Information Security Administration TO: Level 4 Administrators SUBJECT: RAISA Update to Security Protocol Re: Supplemental Information Re: SCP-076

File Name: Addendum 076-1: "Project Abel" and "Mobile Task Force Omega-7"

Prior Classification: O5

New Classification: Level 3, Need-To-Know Basis.

Effective Date: ██-██-████

------

Psychological Profile of Subject SCP-076-2 by Dr. Pamela G████

SCP-076-2 either possesses a mind constructed much differently than our own, or is completely insane, with little empathy or ideas in a way we would understand it. Concepts such as sex, love and equality are completely foreign ideas to SCP-076-2, or at least in comparison to its way of viewing them. Also, while subject has admitted greatly enjoying the act of killing, causing pain (either emotionally or physically) holds no attraction to it. In short, a perfect sociopath.

Intelligence tests have been wildly inconclusive when applied to SCP-076-2, and no accurate result has yet been obtained. This may be due to the alien thought processes of the subject. SCP-076-2 has however, shown that it has great knowledge of human anatomy (although in a highly violent context), military tactics of open warfare, metallurgy, and, strangely enough, the care of livestock. Subject has knowledge of several languages including English, but most notable is its knowledge of several dialects of ancient Sumerian, which seems to be its preferred language.

SCP-076 has nothing but contempt for human beings, with one exception: it seems to hold a wary respect for those it acknowledges as its superior. This was discovered when Agent ███████, an agent who had previously had a large amount of experience with SCP-076-2, did not appear once it escaped. Subject seemed distressed, asking several personnel where Agent ███████ was hiding. When it finally did learn of the fate of Agent ███████ (killed as collateral damage in an airstrike intended to halt the advance of SCP-███), SCP-076-2 stopped its rampage and allowed itself to be escorted and restrained.

Subject was then interviewed on the sudden drastic changes in its behavior, recorded here:

Dr. ██████: Why are you so interested in the death of Agent ███████?

SCP-076-2: (Subject begins swearing in ancient Sumerian)

Dr. ██████: Why does his death bother you? You've killed many humans before, why is he so- (Is cut off by SCP-076-2)

SCP-076-2: (now speaking in English) Different? Because, unlike you [Sumerian word, untranslated], he was a challenge, a real enemy.

Dr. ██████: Why would that be good for you? Every time you have awoken you've tried to escape. He was responsible for apprehending you several times. Surely you must be glad he's dead.

SCP-076-2: I hardly expect you to understand. Do you know, he managed to shoot me in the head over ██ times? A man like that deserves to die in combat, so close to his opponent he can feel his breath. Not in some [Sumerian words, untranslated] destruction ordered by cowardly kings and princes safe in their palaces. The rest of you… (SCP-076-2 spits) you disgust me. I don't even have the urge to strike you down.

(Subject is silent from then on, refusing to speak or respond)

This indicates a possible psychological inlet into SCP-076-2's mind, and a possible control mechanism. Given the massive drain on resources SCP-076-2 causes due to its escape attempts, and considering Bowe Commission's stated desire to weaponize SCP objects for tactical purposes, I recommend that we pursue this course of action as soon as possible.

------

FROM: Dr. █████ █. █████ TO: Dr. P█████ G████, Project Omega Seven SUBJECT:

He said yes.

------

PROJECT PROPOSAL: MOBILE TASK FORCE OMEGA-7 ("PANDORA'S BOX")

Mission Statement: Support of SCP-076-2 ("Abel") in the field, in high risk tactical situations.

Task Force Organization: Task Force Special Asset "Abel," Task Force Leader John ████████████, 10-20 field agents divided into five teams of 3-5 each. Members of the team are to be personally selected from elite field agents by Subject Abel himself, in order to maintain a smooth relationship between the Artifact and the mundane elements of the Task Force.

Security Protocol: SCP-076-2 ("Abel") is to wear a device attached to the neck that, if triggered or tampered with, will immediately detonate, terminating SCP-076-2 by way of complete destruction of the spinal cord, trachea and all major blood vessels in the neck. A tracking device has also been attached to SCP-076-2's person. It is to refrain from killing unless ordered to do so, and is to avoid causing damage to the organization's facilities.

Armament and Equipment: Team members are to be armed and equipped in accordance with MTF doctrine. As Subject Abel has shown no inclination to use firearms, or in fact, no understanding of their use or tactical implications, he is instead to be armed with one or more edged melee weapons of his choice.

Addendum: Note from Dr. Arthur █. █████: For God's sake, John, find these guys something to do. Abel's getting bored, and he's started putting his team through live fire exercises: they get bullets, he gets training weapons. Have you ever seen someone break a man's jaw using a Nerf sword? He's not gonna stop until someone gets killed.

------

Report by Dr. Pamela G████, Project Omega Seven

In light of SCP-076-2's proficient use of the Sumerian language, researchers have asked it to translate several documents. While it originally replied with disinterest, it has translated some of the documents it found worthy of its attention. Most of the documents chosen by SCP-076-2 were regarding battles or legendary heroes, one of its favorites in particular being the "Epic of Gilgamesh".

However, one researcher presented it with the symbol from SCP-073. Upon sight of this, SCP-076-2 became highly enraged, killing several of the researchers before its kill switch could be activated. When revived and questioned about this, SCP-076-2 responded aggressively, and that line of questioning was immediately dropped. It is recommended anything pertaining SCP-073 never be brought to the attention of SCP-076-2 and that the two are never to be in the same facility.

Addendum 076-07: Recently, SCP-105 has been accepted into Mobile Task Force Omega-7, having beaten SCP-076-2 in a contest to see which of the two could activate several devices, each spaced over a mile away from each other and the starting point. SCP-105 managed to score significantly higher than SCP-076-2 by using her inherent abilities to her advantage. SCP-076-2 ceded defeat and allowed her entry into the group.

Addendum 076-09: Proposed introduction of SCP-076-2 to SCP-682 put on indefinite hold. Those with Security Clearance level 4 or higher may request access to Contingency 076-2 #3.

Addendum 076-23: Per the request of the Bowe Commission, Mobile Task Force Omega-7 is to be fielded in the ████████ region of ███████████ against [DATA EXPUNGED].

------

FROM: Dr. Arthur █. █████ TO: Dr. Pamela G████ SUBJECT: Don't do it, Pam

Pam,

For god's sake, don't do it. It's bad enough that they're trying to weaponize Iris too. Don't let the military bully us into doing their dirty work against some sand farmers in ██████████.

------

FROM: General ██████ Bowe TO: Dr. Pamela G████ SUBJECT: A Job Well Done

Excellent work, doctor. The mission went exactly as expected. We'll be calling you again if we need your help.

------

FROM: Dr. Arthur █. █████ TO: Dr. Pamela G████ SUBJECT:

I hope you're fucking proud of yourself.

<hello.jpg>

because you're a bigger asshole than this guy.

------

FROM: Dr. Pamela G████ TO: Omega Seven Team SUBJECT: Reassignment

As of this moment, Dr. Arthur █. █████ has been reassigned to SCP-682 as Level 1 personnel.

------

[DATA EXPUNGED]

------

FROM: Dr. Pamela G████ TO: General ██████ Bowe SUBJECT: Problems

[DATA EXPUNGED]

Despite our best efforts, Subject Abel is proving difficult to control. All our attempts to keep him engaged have been more or less unsuccessful.

The problem is, he's a perfect killing machine, and that's all he wants to do. Which seems like exactly what we wanted, but the problem is, we can't seem to turn him off.

[DATA EXPUNGED]

I'm running out of missions to give him, and the ones I've got left aren't engaging him mentally. He's starting to lash out at the other team members. It's only a matter of time before something goes wrong. Requesting permission to discontinue the project and neutralize Abel temporarily, until we can find something more for him to do.

------

FROM: General ██████ Bowe TO: Dr. Pamela G████, Project Omega Seven SUBJECT: Re: Problems

Unacceptable. Neutralizing Subject Abel at this point is going to cause an unacceptable delay. We'll have another mission for you within a couple of weeks. All you have to do is keep him busy until then. Send him on vacation or something.

------

FROM: Dr. Pamela G████, Project Omega Seven TO: All Staff SUBJECT: ALERT

THIS IS AN AUTOMATED ALERT

SCP-076-2 has disabled the explosive collar failsafe and gone out of control. All staff to high alert. Further requests as events warrant.

------

FROM: AUTOMATED DEFENSE SYSTEM, CONTAINMENT AREA-25 TO: All Sites SUBJECT: FINAL OPTION ENGAGED

THIS IS AN AUTOMATED MESSAGE

As of ██-██-████, ████:██, Containment Area-25 has engaged its on-site nuclear warhead on ten-minute countdown.

------

FROM: O5 Command TO: All Sites SUBJECT: Containment Area 25 Final Option: Response

As of ██-██-████, ████:██, Containment Area-25 has been destroyed by detonation of its on-site nuclear warhead. Sites 67 and 68 are to activate the FEMA protocol and secure the location as soon as possible. Official cover story will be released by RAISA to all personnel once drafted.

------

Revised Psychological Profile of Subject SCP-076-2

SCP-076-2 either possesses a mind constructed much differently than our own, or is completely insane, with little empathy or ideas in a way we would understand it. Concepts such as sex, love and equality are completely foreign ideas to SCP-076-2, or at least in comparison to its way of viewing them. Also, while subject seems to greatly enjoy the act of killing, causing pain (either emotionally or physically) holds no attraction to it.

Intelligence tests have been wildly inconclusive when applied to SCP-076-2, and no accurate result has yet been obtained. This is due to the fact that no communication is possible with the Subject when in its "rage" state. Subject has knowledge of several languages including English, but most notable is its knowledge of several dialects of ancient Sumerian, which seem to be its preferred language.

SCP-076-2 has nothing but contempt for human beings and will kill them on sight. No communication is to be attempted with the subject.

===

[The voice of Dr. Arthur █. █████ was provided by Christian Jasper.] [The voice of Dr. Pamela G████ was provided by Brittany Carlton.] [The voice of the interviewer was provided by @phantomancer.] [The voice of SCP-076-2 was provided by @phinnsy.] [The voice of General ██████ Bowe was provided by Lee Daniel.] [The voice of O5-█ was provided by @lapis-liberalis.]

===

[Enjoy the podcast? Consider supporting us on Patreon! Patrons get access to bonus Joke episodes, outtakes, and can even request episodes on specific SCP objects.]

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businessconsultingservices · 5 years ago

Text

The Authority of Money

youtube

“okay, if I was going to rob this place, how would I do it?”

The Guided Tour

In the main museum, we got to see a number of displays about the history of currency in the United States, including a couple of displays of One Million Dollars:

The Fed’s charter is to “oversee how monetary policy is implemented.” It comes down to three primary functions:

they oversee how payment systems work, so the way checks are cashed, the way credit card and online transactions take place;

they are the regulators of banks in the U.S., so they’re the ones who go in and audit banks to make sure they’re not breaking any laws and

The most visible function is that they’re responsible for moving cash around.

youtube

I guess it’s not much different from shipping a truckload of iPhones to a warehouse, but somehow it SEEMS riskier that they do that.

It’s now shipped off to special landfills for toxic materials. Kind of makes you worry about handling it every day, doesn’t it?

A Personal Tour

Those functions are visible from an additional section of the Museum that was closed off in 2001, so not many people get to visit it.

youtube

Stories = excitement. Spend a little money and create a new video to share some of these stories in the context of explaining what the Fed does.

All unsolicited advice, of course, but I found the place fascinating and woefully under-utilized. As an average tourist, there just wouldn’t be a lot to hold my interest without some upgrades.

Everyone has an amazing idea. It’s the execution that gets the job done. We are your executioner.

Brussels sprouts do not taste that great, no matter what my mom says.

Our team is made of all A personalities. We don’t care who gets the credit – We just want to win.

An optimal business plan can be your road map to a successful business. We thrive on building relationships and take great pride in the company we keep.

The post The Authority of Money appeared first on Business Plan Ideas | Business Plan Steps.

via Business Plan Ideas | Business Plan Steps https://businessplanpro.pennistonemedia.com/2020/07/22/the-authority-of-money/ from Business Planning Solutions https://businessplanningsolutions.tumblr.com/post/624334495775080448

#business planning solutions #business plan examples #free business plan #simple business plan example #h

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