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usafphantom2 · 18 days

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The Story Of The Soviet Pilot Who Defected To Japan With A Secretive MiG-25 Foxbat

September 6, 2016 Military Aviation, Military History, Russia, Troubled Areas

Image credit: Alex Beltyukov

OTD in 1976, Viktor Belenko, “stole” a MiG-25 and landed in Japan.

The then Lieutenant Belenko was a pilot with the 513th Fighter Regiment, 11th Air Army, based in Chuguyevka, Primorsky Krai, in the east of the country. When he brought his MiG-25 “Foxbat” to Hakodate he gave the Western intelligence officers the opportunity to give a first close look at one of the most secretive airplanes of those years: a supersonic interceptor featuring a powerful radar, four air-to-air missiles and a top speed above Mach 3.

In order to assist the American experts in evaluating the aircraft, Belenko brought with him the pilot’s manual for the MiG-25 “Foxbat”, expecting to assist American pilots in evaluating and testing the aircraft. Even if the Japanese government didn’t originally give full access to the plane, the Americans were later invited to examine the aircraft extensively: the MiG was dismantled for such purpose and later returned to the Soviet Union.

In his “MiG pilot” book (1983) John Barron claims that Viktor Belenko’s defection was completely voluntary and was the result of Belenko’s distrust on communist regime.

The MiG was delivered to Japan without the missiles, which were to be introduced in the Belenko’s training later on. The mission was launched earlier than initially planned, because the KGB was about to stop Viktor Ivanovich Belenko from defection.

Although pilot defections during the Cold War were not a rarity, what made Belenko’s defection unique was the fact that the MiG-25 was largely unknown in the West. This is the main point to bear in mind when thinking about Belenko and, unfortunately, this fact is often forgotten.

The ideological background for the events which took place in 1976 is deeply rooted in the beginnings of the post-war period. As the Cold War was in progress there were many incidents and crises which closely led to a confrontation between the two superpowers. One of these events was Francis Gary Powers’s U-2 spy flight on of May 1, 1960.

Power’s U-2 took off from USAF Peshawar Air Base in Pakistan for a GRAND SLAM mission, to investigate the Soviet missile and plutonium production plants. Targets were Sverdlovsk, Plesetsk (ICBM sites) and Mayak – a plutonium plant.

The U-2 was a plane designed to fly well above the Soviet air defense Surface to Air Missile systems. Its operational ceiling was out of the range of the Soviet interceptors and missiles but Powers’ flight was expected, all of the units and surface-to-air defenses were put on alert. The MiG pilots were ordered to ram the aircraft if necessary. The U-2 was eventually shot down by an S-75 Dvina missile near Degtayrsk in the Ural region. Because of high g-force Powers had no chance of reaching the airplane’s self-destruction button and had to eject.

What is interesting is the fact that SAM crews did not know that the plane had already been shot down because the MiGs’ IFF transponders were not updated (May 1st is a national holiday), therefore several Soviet aircraft were also shot down by S-75 rockets.

The political consequences of the spy flight were severe.

Shortly after the incident the Americans created a cover up story for Powers’ failure. NASA had announced in a very specific press release that the pilot, having lost consciousness due to the problems with the oxygen equipment, had strayed into the Soviet territory with his autopilot engaged while carrying out a weather flight.

On May 7, Khrushchev announced that Powers had survived the crash and, nine days later, on May 16, 1960, during a Four Powers Paris Summit meeting with Harald MacMillan, Charles de Gaulle and Dwight Eisenhower he called the U-2 incident an act of a “deliberate aggression.”

Eisenhower refused to apologize for the incident, claiming that the U-2 flight was not of aggressive nature, having only a purpose of ensuring US safety. The meeting collapsed. At the time, Eisenhower was a proponent of so-called Open-Sky Policy, according to which both sides would allow for reciprocal reconnaissance flights over their territories. Khrushchev did not agree. Powers was sentenced to 7 years of hard labor in a Gulag, but he was exchanged for a Russian spy Rudolf Abel on the famous Glinecke Bridge in Potsdam, connecting West and East Germany.

Gary Powers incident sparked the development of the American Oxcart programme, with the goal to design the SR-71 spy plane, which in addition to flying high, also flew very fast, out of the range of the Soviet missiles’ operational envelope.

What is more, a D-21 drone reconnaissance system was developed, to be carried by SR-71 as a parasite. The drone would be dropped, fly over the Soviet Union, return over the Pacific and drop the reconnaissance materials on a parachute.

Both these designs led to the development of a Soviet countermeasure – the MiG-25, known in NATO code as the Foxbat.

MiG-25 take off

The main reason for the importance of Belenko‘s defection cannot be understood without going deeper in the aviation context of the event. The Cold War was the time when both sides used the nuclear armament as a psychological weapon. Therefore ways to deliver warheads were some of the priorities in the development in the field of military industry.

One of the ways to deliver warhead to its target was to use the strategic bomber. The bombers in the US – the B-52s – were subsonic, and could have been easily intercepted by the MiG-21, which was capable of reaching speeds of Mach number up to Mach 2 and altitudes of 60,000 feet.

Problems began to emerge when the B-58 Hustler was designed. This plane was capable of flying with the same level of performance as any MiG-21, which for the Soviet designers meant they had to look for a better countermeasure.

The Strategic Air Command of the United States Air Force at the time was into creating a nuclear-powered bomber of infinite range. The project had been dropped in 1964 when North American aviation announced that it could build a bomber capable of attaining speeds of Mach 3 throughout the entire length of its mission.

Secondly, after the failure of U-2 spy plane, launched the Oxcart program, which lead to the development of Mach 3 strategic reconnaissance aircraft, SR-71.

That put the Moscow designers on alert, and an assignment was given to the design bureaus of MiG (Mikoyan and Gurevich) and Sukhoi to develop a countermeasure.

The surface-to-air missiles were considered insufficient. The aim was to develop a single-seat interceptor capable of attaining extremely high speeds and altitudes.

New problems for the Soviet scientists emerged, such as thermodynamic heating, leading to immense development of the Moscow research institute, TsAGI – transliteration of the Russian abbreviation which stands for Центра́льный аэрогидродинами́ческий институ́т (ЦАГИ) – Central Aero-Hydrodynamic Institute. Mikhail Gurevich was the leader of the MiG-25 project.

According to Discovery Channel’s TV series Wings of the Red Star many Western experts argue that the Foxbat was inspired by the North American Aviation A-5 Vigilante. The design programme for MiG-25 was founded in 1958. The basic design of E-155 which later became MiG-25 was the work of Artion Mikoyan.

The E-155, the prototype of what was to become Foxbat was propelled by two large turbojet engines designed by Tumansky. The prototype itself was designed in the period of 1961-1962.

No aluminum, so popular in the West at the time, was used for construction. Steel and nickel alloys were used instead, with limited use of titanium on leading edges and places where heat loads were expected to be high.

The aircraft had to be light, to that extent that weight was traded for strength. The G-load it could withstand was only 5 g, two times less than other fighters which were designed to fight in close combat.

The maiden flight of E-155 was made by famous MiG test pilot, Alexander Fedotov on May 1, 1964.

The MiG-25’s mission as an interceptor required development of fire control system which would be able to work at the speeds the plane could reach.

The radar on the plane, RP-25 Smerch, designated in the NATO nomenclature as Foxfire, 1,100 pounds in weight, was the largest device of this type at the time. According to Barron, the radar was very powerful (600 kilowatts), as

“[Belenko] also dared not touch the radar switch because the impulses from the MiG-25 radar were so powerful, they could kill a rabbit at a thousand meters. Hence, it was a crime to activate the radar on the ground.”

Its purpose was to burn through any jamming systems known at the time and to provide a stable lock-on allowing the pilot to use the air-to-air missiles that Foxbat was carrying.

Also in May of 1964 the XB-70 aircraft was made a research airplane, and presented to the public in Palmdale, California, after being canceled three times (in 1959, 1960 and in 1961). At same time, the U-2 missions were still a danger, so as the SR-71, US Air Force ultimate Mach 3 spy plane. For these reasons the development of Foxbat was not canceled.

Mikoyan left his design bureau in March 1964 for health reasons. Never had he an opportunity to see the MiG-25 enter service dying in December from the heart attack.

In March 1965 the first public announcements of the plane’s performance were made, which was that it completed 150 kilometers closed circuit flight at the speed of 1,400 miles per hour.

The Foxbat made its first public appearance at the airshow organized in connection with the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution on Jul. 9, 1967 on the Domodedovo airfield. When three MiG-25s appeared in the sky the show announcer referred to them as “Interceptors capable of Mach 3”.

Both the Western experts and Russians were puzzled, as even in the Soviet Russia there was almost no information about the MiG-25 available to the public whatsoever, up until 1972.

Mig-25 side takeoff

Besides being an interceptor, the Mig-25 was also a high altitude reconnaissance aircraft. It was operated in the conditions of direct radio communication with the ground and was capable of taking photographs of whole United Kingdom within one flight.

The West had an opportunity to see what the aircraft was capable of in a proxy war between Israel and Egypt.

Four MiGs, referred to as X-500, were shipped to Egypt in fall 1971. The Egyptians were forbidden to come close to them, and even though the aircraft had Egyptian markings, they were flown by Soviet pilots and serviced by Soviet crews.

When one of the Israeli F-4 Phantom fighters tried to intercept the MiG reconnaissance aircraft at Mach 2,5, the MiG simply accelerated to Mach 3.2 and disappeared.

The MiG-25 engines were capable of producing 12,500 kG each. The design assumptions of the construction were not to create a good close combat fighter, but to propel it throughout the airspace as fast as possible.

In the late 1960s the USA developed the F-15 which was a fruit of the vague understanding of what MiG-25 was. That understanding was based on the speed and altitude records Foxbat had broken (see below).

The Western experts assumed that it was faster in straight line than expected. They also thought that it was made of lightweight, modern composite materials and that it was powered by modern turbofan engines. It was also believed to have a long-range and good close air combat capabilities.

As a result of that, American engineers designed the ultimate fighter jet, which was very complex, and due to that – quite costly. In the beginning of its existence it broke many of the climb records established earlier by hte Foxbat.

It was late 1972 when F-15 entered service, and it was long until 1976 for the MiG to remain a mystery.

On Sept. 6, 1976, when Viktor Belenko defected taking off from the Sokolovka airbase and landing in Japan, the Western perception of Foxbat changed.

It turned out that the airplane was heavier and simpler in construction than expected, hence it had shorter range. It was far from being a close combat jet with its rugged construction. It also had very poor low-speed capabilities.

As Peter Ustinov of the Wings of the Red Star TV series summarizes: “MiG-25 was indeed an extraordinary machine, but not the one the West had imagined.”

Nevertheless the simplicity of Foxbat could not stop it from breaking many world records, nor could the Americans at the time.

MiG-25 front left

The prototypes were made lighter and their purpose was to break several records. As it is stated in the classification of FAI (International Aeronautical Federation), Foxbat belonged to the category C1 (III) which specifies jet powered aircraft with unlimited take-off weight.

The records broken by Foxbat were of various nature.

They included: speed record on a 1,000 km circuit by chief MiG test pilot Alexander Fedotov: 2319,12 km/h on Mar. 16, 1965; the Foxbat broke several time-to-height records, for example climbing to 20,000 m in 2 minutes 49,8 seconds. The MiG-25 also set several absolute world records that still stand. Absolute world altitude records with 1,000 kg payload, and without payload: 35,230 m and 36,240 m respectively were also set.

Air-to-air_left_side_view_of_a_Soviet_MiG-25_Foxbat-E_aircraft

As already explained, the West had almost no knowledge of MiG-25 whatsoever until 1971, and very poor knowledge by September 1976 when Belenko defected.

It was a great surprise, and present for the Western experts when Belenko flew a brand new MiG-25 to a Japanese airfield.

At first the Soviet officers at Sokolovka airbase, where Belenko was stationed, thought that it was navigation systems problem that occurred and lead to the event. The defection, however, was preplanned and premeditated.

Several authors say that Belenko, had been an aviation enthusiast from his earliest childhood.

He received his flight training in order to become a flying instructor and devoted most of his time to learning and perfecting his flying craftsmanship.

He got a job as an instructor in Amarvir Pilot School, flying Sukhoi Su-15 planes, always being a top notch airman. It was in the beginning of the 1970s when he heard about a MiG-25 for the first time.

Almost immediately, wanting to learn about the new plane, he asked for transfer to flight training on Foxbat in 1972. The unit he applied to was Rostov, near Iran, but he was soon moved to the far east, to Sokolovka, the 530th Fighter Regiment.

The permission for transfer given by the commander being an exception in those times was justified with the Belenko’s great interest in the modern air technology. His records were flawless, so he was selected, and he was appointed a party secretary of the squadron.

Belenko’s training program progressed without any trouble. After the individual flights program ended the group flights began. The group flights started at the end of August and were to be conducted for one month.

On Sept. 6, 1976 Belenko walked his child to the kindergarten and went to the base to fly.

The weather conditions were good for flying – the cloudiness was of about 7/10 with the lower cloud surface at 1,500-2,000 meters and upper at 5,000 meters. Take-off was to take place at 12:50.

Soon after the take-off Belenko reported engine problems and separated from the group. He dropped to an altitude of 50 m above the sea, so no problems that usually occur in a low-level flight were present. He was flying low, so the radars could not track him. The direction the plane was going was eastward. Directly towards the Japanese archipelago.

Getting closer to the shore Belenko climbed to 6,700 m, waiting for the reaction of the Japanese air defense.

370 kilometers from the island he was finally spotted by the radars. The Japanese at Chitose airbase scrambled a pair F-4J fighters to intercept him. Knowing that he had been detected he descended again but he soon entered the clouds, experiencing difficulties in navigation.

At 13:52 he spotted an airfield and attempted a landing, but had to abort it and go around because of a Boeing 727 airliner taking off. According to his assessment, the airstrip was a bit shorter from what he had seen on military airfields. He made a long landing, overshooting the runway and rolling about 240 meters beyond the threshold.

After getting out of the cockpit he spotted the name of the airfield. Unfortunately it was not a military base, but civilian Hoktado strip. Nevertheless, Belenko was in Japan, which was his main objective. Just after getting out of the cockpit he made a warning shot and warned the Japanese not to come close to the plane because it was secured with explosives (at the time the Soviet Air Force used to secure the MiG-25 from getting into the Western hands by using explosives and self-destruction system).

He also asked the personnel to cover the aircraft in such a way that the Soviet markings were not visible. Then, he asked to be put in contact with the US Air Force representation. The airfield was closed down for five hours. Belenko asked for a political asylum.

The time between the afternoon of September 6th and 7th was very eventful.

The media showed a large interest in the incident and disseminated the news all across the Western world. Aeroflot sent a delegation, but they were not allowed to see nor to come close to the Foxbat.

Diplomacy was a major problem. In order to justify keeping the pilot and plane on the Japanese territory the authorities accused Belenko of illegal border trespassing.

The plane was moved to a hangar and afterwards was transported to military airbase in Hyakuri, located 80km north from Tokyo. On Sept. 19 a C-5 Galaxy cargo plane was brought from the US in order to transport the MiG-25; eleven experts from Wright-Patterson AFB were brought in order to examine the aircraft.

Also 64 Japanese experts took part in the examination. The aircraft was partially dismantled and transported in escort of F-4J and F-104J fighters.

The examination included infra-red photos of Foxbat with the engines working at full military power. It was essential for western air-to-air missiles designers to know the heat spectrum of the engines, so that they could develop missile guidance systems according to the characteristics of the Foxbat engines.

The diplomatic struggle went on. The official statement of the Japanese was that the plane would be returned to the Soviets but no sooner than Oct. 5, 1976. Due to the fact that samples of materials were taken from the wings the Foxbat could not go back by air.

It was dismantled again and sent back on a container ship in parts, in 13 containers. The Japanese secured the containers so that the Soviet personnel would not do the review of the plane in the daylight.

But the Russian methodology was unknown to the Japanese. The personnel had opened the containers with crowbars and it turned out that some equipment was still in the hands of the West. The Soviets asked the West to pay for the missing aircraft instrumentation and avionics. The Japanese in a reply asked the Russians to pay for transport and formalities.

Belenko’s family was detained and KGB started an investigation. A personal diary in which fuel calculations were carried out was found in Belenko’s flat.

It was also found out that the pilot was in Moscow a week prior to the deception.

All these factors suggested that the incident was a long preplanned operation of the American intelligence as Belenko could have met a US agent in Moscow.

What is more, the Soviet pilot very often used the confidential library of the airbase, more often than other pilots. It was supposed that he might have been taking photos of the MiG-25 manual.

After Belenko arrived he was isolated from the third parties.

He got a political asylum in the USA, where he started working in an aviation company. Afterwards, in many interviews, like in one for Full Context magazine, he said that the main reason behind the defection was to get away from the communism.

He received American citizenship and opened his own company. He got married to an American woman, with whom he had 3 children. According to Barron’s book his family life in USSR was going towards a bitter end – a divorce – so he fled to the US.

After publishing this article we received an email from one of our readers who provided some more behind the scenes details. Here’s what he’s written to us:

Actually, they did, and Russia was totally unaware of it. It was rolled into a hangar, dismantled, and flown to Area 51 by C-5A Galaxy, where it was totally examined, taken apart, reassembled, and flown by Victor Belenko against our first line fighters of the time. It was then disassembled, crated, loaded back onto the C-5, and flown back to Japan, where it was placed on the dock to await a Russian freighter’s pick-up.

We expected to find high tech alloys used for the wings, but the rust through the paint revealed they were steel. Where we expected high tech electronics, we found vacuum tube electronics.

You must remember that Russia builds for durability, and survival under war-time conditions. Just like their AK-47 Automatic rifle…bullet proof, easy to manufacture, and repair under war conditions. Which is easier to construct, and repair during wartime..high tech, or low-tech items? You’ll find the inside of Antanov’s giant aircraft made the same way, especially loading ramps, which are hollow, with an aluminum thin covering and internal ribs, with a reverse dimple texture. Hydraulics actually glass jars !!

Area 51 was the site of many Russian MiG tests, obtained from many different sources. we had a number of pilots versed in, and trained in MiG operations and evaluations.

Yes, Japan DID allow the removal, and testing, by us, of Belenko’s MiG 25..but it was highly secret.

About Jacek Siminski

Standing contributor for TheAviationist. Aviation photojournalist. Co-Founder of DefensePhoto.com. Expert in linguistics, Cold War discourse, Cold War history and policy and media communications.

@TheAviationist.co

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safarigirlsp · 2 years

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Satan Wears Burberry

Modern Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Humor. Romance. Enemies to Lovers. Fur.

AO3 Link

Author’s Note: For a Valentine's Day special, and as a gift for the lovely and wonderfully talented @kyloremus , here is a fun bitchy Fashion AU inspired by Cruella DeVille and The Devil Wears Prada! This is only the intro, if it is well received, I'll do more with it. There’s not even any murder or mayhem! What’s wrong with me?

Fashion is a viciously cutthroat industry where appearance and manipulation often win over sincerity and benevolence. Weapons of choice are razored nails, deadly heels, and backstabbing smiles. Everyone who is anyone and all the someones aspiring to be something in the fashion industry know there is no event more seminal than Paris Fashion Week. Statuesque models strutting runways, aggressive designers gauging their competition, and hawkish agents scouting new talent can all be found amid the crowds and press.

As the Editor in Chief of Annees Folles Magazine, your front row seat at every event was reserved. This season, Annees Folles had even surpassed Vogue in sales and influence. Before anything became fashion, it had to receive your stamp of approval and be featured in the pages of your magazine. Brands rose and fell pursuant to your approval or condemnation just like a gladiator’s life dependent upon the tilt of an emperor’s thumb. Among the other more illustrious attendees, were the heads of the most preeminent fashion lines in the world, the CEOs and moguls whose names had forged the foundation of modern fashion.

La Maison Gris, a relatively new brand from an old and noble French family, had made a meteoric rise to the very summit of the industry. Helmed by its formidable and charismatic CEO, Jacques Le Gris, La Maison Gris had firmly secured a position high among the most distinguished names in fashion. Le Gris had fast become synonymous with Chanel, Versace, Lagerfeld, Gucci, Valentino, Tom Ford, Dior, Dolce and Gabbana. Aided in his ascension by his calculating mind, his almost irresistible charm, his devilish good looks and imposing size, Jacques had steamrolled his competition like a tank over protestors.

Jacques Le Gris always dressed to the nines and was dashingly groomed and coiffed, his image immaculately maintained. From a finely tailored bespoke suit that flattered his impressive and athletic 6’4” physique, enhancing the breadth of his great shoulders and the taper of his fit waist, to a simple signet ring bearing his century’s old family crest that drew attention to his enormous hands, he used fashion to emphasize his towering size and noble bearing. He wore a neatly trimmed van dyke, and his thick black hair down to his shoulders. An intentional streak of silver shot through his glossy ebony mane like the milky way shimmering across the night sky, giving him the regal air of a melanistic lion. He was dressed now in pieces from his own line, a charcoal suit with a chic glen plaid pattern, black shirt, unbuttoned down two buttons from his throat, and a black overcoat with a subtle flair of silver Persian lamb around the collar.

Notably broader without exception than everyone in attendance and standing a head taller than most, save for the willowy models, some of whom hoovered near his airspace when in heels, Jacques cut an impressive and unmistakable figure where he stood next to the runway in the dimly lit audience. The room was filled to capacity with the crème de la crème of fashion, interspersed with the journalists and photographers who would relay their chosen highlights to the public. While he waited for the show to begin and the first model to strut down the runway, Jacques discussed his line with anyone who would listen, showcasing his renowned affability. He was cordial where others were aloof, a trait that had helped spur his rise to the top.

Jacques was confident that his spring line that was to be revealed at this show would impress all those in attendance, but still, it never hurt to grease the wheels with a few dashing smiles. He could charm almost anyone into submission, a talent that cut across many different lines of social interaction. Only one major player had remained staunchly immune from his allure, and she unfortunately wielded one of the most important opinions. In fact, it was as though the Editor in Chief of Annees Folles Magazine took pride, a morbid relish even, in eviscerating the designs of La Maison Gris. With each scathing article, La Maison Gris and its profits took a hit and took months to reclimb the ladder from several rungs below. To say Jacques was ruffled by it was an understatement, he was mad as hell. He had yet to meet the woman in person, which he assured himself was the reason he had so far been unable to exert the full magnitude of his charm and magnetism.

The lights dimmed and the music picked up tempo, indicating the show would soon be starting. Jacques was focused on the runway, and didn’t see you approach and squeeze in beside him for a place at the head of the runway. The room was packed as tightly as a nightclub, but filled with an exponentially more beautiful crowd. Jacques recognized you with a visible start, his affable manner momentarily dampened with worry, fear even, at being in the presence of the one woman with the power to unseat him from his high horse. The pen was indeed mightier than the sword when it was you who wielded it, writing the destinies of every hopeful designer in the pages of your magazine.

You were dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana dress of ebony lace that hugged and flattered your shapely curves to perfection paired with a charcoal gray double-breasted Burberry Prorsum coat with military-style epaulets and cuffs. You wore five-inch Burberry heels that, although pointed-toe stilettos, they were fitted with Burberry’s signature lug sole, adding to your combative appearance and reputation. Although it was dark in the room, you wore a pair of aviator sunglasses by Maybach, also in gradients of carbon, that concealed your infamously ferocious eyes. Your hair was elegantly styled and your bearing was as proud as any model on a runway, but your presence was of a military general standing on a battlefield.

The sight of you took Jacques’s breath away. He had never been so taken aback by a woman, so instantly devastated by beauty.

With a deep steadying breath and a visible effort, Jacques composed himself. It was absurd, he reasoned, to be so unnerved by a woman. He was a master at seduction, and what was business but a different kind of seduction? Both involved a degree of manipulation and power plays. Even if Jacques didn’t know how to deal with you as a cutthroat editor who struck fear into the hearts of men, he knew how to deal with a red-blooded woman.

“I think you’ll find the florals are luscious,” he whispered with a smokey depth to his voice. He moved closer beside you until your shoulders brushed, perfectly acceptable in the crowded room.

“Florals? For Spring?” you scoffed. “Groundbreaking.”

“Well… Florals are classics for a reason,” he stumbled at the sharp rebuff. “Spring lines always have florals. It’s what you do with them that matters, is it not?”

“Have you sustained a head injury?” you derided haughtily, turning to look at him briefly over the rims of your sunglasses. “Yes, follow like the little lemmings toward the cliff of the cliché and the mediocre. The market – that is, sellers who have already made you rich -- want to get their winter fashions off the racks. Something inventive, something charming and clean, for example, would sell regardless of the season. Are you marketing to the likes of Kohl’s or Target?” You dismissively returned your attention to the runaway. “Dolce & Gabbana is the only designer who has any business at all dabbling in seasonal florals. Perhaps, an honorable mention to Dior.” Jacques tried to retort, but you steamrolled over him. “But not La Maison Gris, I assure you, and my assurance is the only one that will ever matter.”

This silenced him as he looked away, a strange and foreign mixture of rejection and embarrassment mingling inside him with an all-too familiar anger. He then looked back at you tentatively, feeling hesitant to challenge you.

“Just last spring Vogue raged over my florals,” he stated with a confidence that for once he didn’t feel, his deep voice undercut by an undertone of fear. Because of his size and physicality, deep voice, and wealth, he often unwittingly intimidated people. He was unused to being on the other side of that scale, and he couldn’t recall being so as a grown man. It was a challenge, he realized, and he savored challenges.

“Then, they were novel. Now, they are tired and uninspired,” you sighed as if bored by his simpleness. “Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative -- that’s Oscar Wilde, mind you – and I do believe he had a sense of fashion. He even went to prison for his fashion genius, among other proclivities.”

Jacques’s handsome features broadcast he was ready to retort but thought better of it, chewing his lip instead to bite back the argument that wanted to leap from his tongue. As the first model made her appearance on the runway, the audience applauded, approving of her floral dress with fox trim. He puffed his chest and looked at you as if to say he told you so. The next model wore a lynx shawl over a dress of gold floral brocade.

“Mixing fur and floral, are we? I always thought fur looked best on its original owner.” You studied each ensemble carefully with the eye of a critic. “Models should be comfortable in their own skin, not someone else’s, don’t you think?”

“This line is novel, sleek and vivacious. If you wish to stand out and feel good about yourself, my line is for you,” he huffed and retorted as another model stalked toward you wearing a beautiful lavender dress trimmed with tasteful sable fur in a complimentary dusky hue. The crowd roared in approval. “Nature has evolved to flatter animals of every shape and size. Do you argue that natural evolution shouldn’t be used when one is designing clothes to flatter women?”

You paused at the audience’s enchantment with Jacques’s line. He, too, saw it was a hit and raised one eyebrow at you. The next model wore a sleek aviator jacket with a collar of sheared beaver dyed in a subtle chevron pattern. The crowd actually clapped at that one.

No matter, people often didn’t know what they really liked until you told them.

You gestured for him to lean closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Like I said, the unimaginative masses are easily impressed. They can’t do what I can do: convince the biggest retailers in the world to market your line, and the populace to buy it.”

Jacques took a deep breath, gathered his courage, smiled mischievously, and said with a seductive tenor, “Well, there is more than one way to skin a cat.”

“I suppose you would know,” you quipped as another lynx trimmed ensemble walked past. “Regardless, the details of your incompetence do not interest me.”

“My incompetence?” Jacques huffed. No one else in the world would dare to call him incompetent. But arguing the point with you would get him nowhere. He decided to try a different tactic. “Let us continue this tete-a-tete somewhere more private, and I’ll try to find something about myself that does interest you.”

“Bold of you to assume a ridiculous man like you could please me in any venue. Be assured, I am demanding in my personal life as well as my professional one.” You let your appraising gaze rake over his body. “I want the best. I deserve the best. And I demand the best. In all things and in all ways.”

“My fashion lines may bore you, belle comandante.” Jacques grinned and asserted boldly, “Trust me, as a man, I would make you purr.”

“I have no commitments and I find myself rather bored by Paris, but I’m sure you have a parade of floral harlots vying to charm you into letting them walk your next runway. Who would I be to deprive them of the valuable life lesson in regret they would learn from a night with you?” You eyed another fur-trimmed model skeptically. “Dear God, you’re not into furries are you?”

He said nothing more until the show was over, but a sly lupine smile played on his plush lips. When all the models had walked the runway and the din of conversation filled the room, he made you a darkly illicit offer. “I’ll make a bet with you. If I can make you purr for me, then you will write a splendid review of tonight’s show.”

Removing your sunglasses, you eyed him with unveiled skepticism. “And if I find you are not up to the task of pleasing me?”

“You won’t.” He winked at you.

“Graduating from fashion to prostitution, are you?” You raised a judgmental eyebrow. “I can’t deny it’s a better fit for you.”

“Not publicly.” He grinned at you, flashing a predatory glint of white teeth. “But for you, I will make a one-night-only exception. I’m a gambling man, and what higher stakes could I play with? If I can wring a good review out of you between the sheets, you will write a nice review for my fashion line on the pages of Annees Folles. We’ll enjoy ourselves in the process, that I promise you, cherie.”

“It is an interesting thought.” You smiled. “To wonder what I will find worthy of review. The before or the after?”

“Yes, I agree,” he boomed loud enough for everyone to hear. You had heard he was a showman and viciously sarcastic. “You know why failed designers become harping editors of fashion magazines? It’s a petty facet of human nature that we feel the need to tear apart others who have talents one does not.”

“Is that what you think?” you laughed at the absurdity, meeting his challenge and projecting your voice. “Designers are many. On the other hand, people who dictate the tides of fashion and control the very destinies of men like you are few. The truth is, no one can do what I can do.”

“It must be lonely at the top for a maneater like you,” Jacques teased, his voice low again. “Who keeps you warm at night?”

“Renew your offer at the end of the evening,” you replied coyly. “And I’ll decide who’s keeping me warm tonight.”

*******************************************************************************************

Nearly as important as the fashion show itself was the afterparty. This was where most of the schmoozing and deal-making were conducted, where connections were made and alliances were formed. Swanky upscale clubs were privately rented for these glamorous soirees. The afterparty for La Maison Gris was celebrated at L’Arc, the highly exclusive nightclub at the top of the Champs Elysees. Jacques had rented the club for the night, open only to those on his well-pruned guest list. The neon strobes of the club ordinarily played across a beautiful crowd but during Fashion Week, its lights never fell on someone who wasn’t either rich, famous, beautiful, or otherwise extraordinary.

Jacques was the man of the hour and had to make himself seen at his own party. You, of course, were on every guest list of every afterparty, but only an elite few were deserving of your attendance. After making your rounds at parties hosted by Dolce & Gabbana, Burberry, Dior, and Tom Ford, you decided to make an appearance at the La Maison Gris party and see if Jacques’s bet still intrigued you. Your arrival was just late enough to be aptly fashionable.

A redwood of a doorman recognized you and ushered you in ahead of a winding line of at least one-hundred hopeful partygoers, much to their displeasure. The floor of the club writhed and undulated with women in chic dresses and men in suits dancing in time with heavy driving bass. You would have been hard-pressed to squeeze up to the bar that was so tightly packed that even the attempts of waifish models were foiled by the mass of humanity.

The freshly bleached smiles of several of the biggest names in Hollywood caught your eye from various corners of the room. One perfect smile belonged to the actor who had just landed his big break in being cast in the newest reboot of the Superman franchise. Clark Kent du jour had the build of a linebacker, a square jaw to match, cerulean blue eyes, and jet back hair, complete with a Superman curl he had cultivated since landing the part. He had also been pursuing you since you had toured the set for a piece on the costumes, most of which had been crafted by Zegna. He wore a suit by La Maison Gris, complete with a dyed sable pocket square instead of the usual silk. Tragically, he had both buttons done on his jacket, a glaring faux pas that required all of your limited reserve to overlook. You could take the man off the farm, but you couldn’t dress the farm out of the man.

Aspiring models stalked through the crowd on mile-high legs like otherworldly creatures, eager to impress designers for a chance to walk down their runways. And there was Jacques Le Gris, standing in the middle of an entire harem of them. A flock of scantily and colorfully dressed models surrounded him like birds at a feeder, some batting their eyelashes, others stroking his body, others still giggling vapidly, all desperate for any crumb of attention he deigned to toss their way. Though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, he was gesturing magnanimously, smiling and laughing at his own infectious humor, and very much enjoying the attention.

The spectacle of the fawning models was enough to make you return Clark Kent’s smile just long enough to encourage him to make an approach. Your timing was perfect; like all the best predators, you had the gift of precision. Jacques noticed you just as the handsome actor made a beeline for you and procured a flute of champagne from the tray of an obliging waitress who flitted by on his way. The actor was only the first to approach you. Within moments, you too were encircled by a mass of noisome people, even larger than the group that surrounded Jacques. Everyone wanted your attention, your approval.

At the sight of Clark Kent sidling up to you, a dark veil passed over Jacques’s dashing features, turning them murderous for the breadth of a second. It went unnoticed by most if not all, but you saw it and you smirked. Clenching his jaw, Jacques pushed through the throng of humanity and shooed away the plumage of women, heading not toward you but to the bar.

You smiled as the actor handed you the champagne, trying not to dwell on the state of his tackily buttoned jacket. But you drew the line at champagne, telling him with your usual stridence, “Oh, you can keep that for yourself. I don’t drink champagne, but I’m sure a large country boy like you can handle mine and yours and many more after.”

The poor pretty idiot didn’t know if you were serious or teasing, but since he had no basis in experience dealing with such a direct and assertive woman, he took your harshness for humor and laughed. He would be so easy to rip to shreds, which could be a fun passing amusement. He was exceedingly lucky you were in a good mood tonight. Adding to your relative levity was the towering figure of the CEO of La Maison Gris striding purposefully toward you and fighting to keep his composure and grin through his jealous anger. He held a drink in each hand, filled with amber and ice.

“This is my party,” he said by way of greeting you, making his voice notably deeper than the actor’s. Jacques was taller, but only just, which added to your amusement when he tried to look down his charmingly hooked nose at his more classically handsome opponent. “How is it that you just waltz in here and everybody gravitates toward you like you are the sun.”

“I’ve found that Nietzsche’s herd concept applies in a variety of ways.” You smiled icily back. “The human herd often has a collective sense of who’s the most important person in the room.”

Still looking at the actor, Jacques wordlessly handed you one of the two drinks he carried. You accepted it with a raised eyebrow and lifted it to inhale its aroma. Then, you gifted him with a genuine smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I have. Your drink of choice is an old fashioned made with Midleton Single Pot Irish Whiskey and garnished with an orange peel.” He took a sip of his own drink, the same as yours, closing his eyes briefly to savor the taste. “But I think you’ll like this better. I prefer Redbreast twenty-seven year old Irish Whiskey.”

You took a skeptical drink, your eyes not leaving Jacques’s. The old fashioned was remarkably flavorful. “It’s tolerable, I suppose.”

“I better get a nicer review than that from you after I’ve given you a taste of something else that’s full-bodied and old fashioned.” Jacques winked at you as he took another drink.

“I’ve already been here fifteen minutes, and already this is growing dull.” You pointedly looked at the Breitling watch strapped to Jacques’s thick wrist. “When are you going to make it worth my while to have come at all?”

“Finish your drink,” he challenged and downed the better part of his own. He gave the actor a dangerous glare, but the other man was too focused on you to notice, still standing beside you, hopeful and oblivious.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said to Clark Kent with unveiled sarcasm, the man was utterly clueless. “I forgot you were there. You may go now.”

“I may actually grow to like you.” Jacques grinned and took your elbow, his large hand squeezing you for emphasis.

“I would expect so,” you replied haughtily. “It is a sentiment I acquire often but return sparingly.”

“Carpe nocturne, ma jolie fille,” he growled as he pulled you through the crowd and out of L’Arc to his waiting car.

*******************************************************************************************

Enroute to a more comfortable and conducive location, you and Jacques each downed two more old fashioneds as his driver maneuvered through the labyrinthian Parisian streets, overfull with tourists for Fashion Week. With his drinks, Jacques smoked a thick cigar on the drive, billowing smoke from his nose like a regal dragon through a cracked window. It came as no surprise you were both staying at the Ritz Paris, after all, it was the finest luxury hotel in Paris and some say in the world. You discovered it had been Jacques who had sniped the Suite Imperiale, the finest suite in the opulent hotel, out from under you, leaving you to book the only slightly less decadent Suite Windsor for yourself.

Jacques strode with you proudly through the lavish hotel, past numerous celebrities and icons. His hand rested possessively on the small of your back, leaving no doubt as to the nature of your evening.

“People are staring,” you said without a trace of shyness, relishing the attention.

“Let’s make it worth their while.” Jacques took your hand and twirled you like he was dancing with you and then dipped you for a passionate kiss in full view of the bustling lobby.

People indeed stared, their captivated gazes following as he then led you to the bank of elevators. Inside the elevator, he pushed you against the wall and propped his hands on either side of your head, caging you inside his arms as he loomed over you.

“Want me to say goodnight, jolie fille?” he asked, his voice dripping with husky desire.

Biting your lip as you paused to consider his words, you looked up at him. “Not for a few more hours.”

A broad toothy smile broke across Jacques’s features as the elevator chimed and you stepped out of his arms, enroute to his suite.

Jacques walked so closely behind you as you approached the door to the Suite Imperiale that you could feel the heat radiating off his massive body. Hot breath huffed on the back of your neck, raising goosebumps and sending electric currents down your spine. At his door, he handed you his room key and let you fumble with the lock while he trailed his hands down over your hips and then back up your thighs. Hooking his fingers in the hem of your dress, he pulled it up over your ass, the cool air on your skin a stark contrast to his hot hands. His broad chest pressed into your back and his head fell to your neck. His lips teased at you tantalizingly as he dug his thick fingers into your soft hips, pulling your ass back into the massive bulge in his pants.

“I knew you had a luscious ass,” he growled into your neck. He teased you with the scratch of his beard near your ear and smiled against your skin when he dipped his hand between your thighs and felt the moist heat of your arousal. “It would be a shame to ruin your lovely clothes. We need to get you out of them before they get too wet.”

You laughed breathily as you opened the door and stumbled inside with Jacques still pressed to your back. He kicked the door shut and spun you to face him, crashing his lips to yours as you each clawed at each other’s clothing. His jacket and shirt were the first to be discarded. You wanted to see his body before revealing yours, and you were not disappointed when he peeled his shirt away. His chest was larger and more impressive than you had guessed and his arms more thickly muscled. He had the finely sculpted look of a performance horse, massive, sleek, and powerful all at once.

Backing away from him sultrily, you slowly unzipped your dress as you angled toward the bedroom. Inspired by the Chateau de Versailles, the living room of the Suite Imperiale was done in burgundy and cream, with vaulted ceilings and enormous airy windows. The burgundy and gold drapes were open, letting the lights of Paris glimmer into the otherwise darkened room.

Before you could step out of your dress that had fallen to your feet, Jacques lifted you up into his arms, all but yanking you off the ground in his fervor. He was so powerful and solid that he made you feel weightless in his arms, a feeling that heightened your anticipation as much as his expert touch.

Jacques twirled once inside the suite’s bedroom with you still in his arms, taking every advantage to show off. This room was decorated in cream and mint with a green and mint brocade canopy enshrouding the lavish bed. Jacques laid you gently down onto the plush bedding and traced hot kisses down your throat and chest as he rose back to brusquely discard the rest of his clothing. You eyed his body shamelessly, very pleased by every magnificent part of him. His aurous eyes were even hungrier than yours as they devoured the sight of you.

“I’ve never seen true beauty before tonight,” he said reverently in a voice that was all smoke and darkness.

Jacques crawled over you, a predator over his prey, caging you beneath him with his impressive arms on either side of your body. When you put your hands on him, you could feel his heavy muscles tense and flex as he moved. The feel of him alone was a potent aphrodisiac. He could read all the signs of your body, the way you moved and sighed and responded to his touch. He knew you wanted him, and wanted him now. But Jacques wanted to savor you, to spend as long as he could possibly stand it, to sear every moment of this night into his memory like a firebrand.

Agonizingly slow, he returned his lips to your skin, kissing and teasing every part of your flesh he could cover. He knew he would have you several times tonight, and he decided he wanted to make you moan with his tongue before he made you scream with his cock. It was quick work for him once he settled between your legs and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. He had barely traced his name into you a handful of times when he felt the shuddering rush of your ecstasy.

Positioning himself above you, he captured your lips as he thrust into you, fast and fluid but gentle too. Slow at first, he followed the pace you set as your pleasure deepened. He was a consummate lover, and he shifted his hips until he knew his angle was perfect, like a marksman hitting the bullseye. He saw your features rendered beautifully distraught by pleasure, and he thought that he had never seen anything so lovely in the world of fashion and art as the sight of you beneath him.

Your arousal mounted as vigorously as he pistoned into you. Everything faded from your world until there was only the handsome man above you and the pleasure that flooded you until you were bursting with it. Jacques crested with you when a powerful orgasm throbbed through you and he carried you through every delicious shudder until you were both delirious with exhausted bliss. He kissed you with a slow lingering passion and when he pulled back, it was to look at you with adoration. His gaze was brief, but the emotion was unmistakable.

In the sultry minutes between your first session together and the next of the evening, you lay across Jacques’s chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat and the resonant timbre of his voice that sounded much like a contented purr beneath your ear. His hair was tangled and wild, and his chest glistened with a light sheen of sweat. His arms were strong around you and his hands huge and comforting on your skin. The man was an absolute fever dream.

“This is only the beginning, ma belle amour,” Jacques whispered much later that night, careful not to wake you. Even in sleep, he dreamed of you and of the bright and glamorous future you would forge together.

*******************************************************************************************

Jacques prided himself on being part of the 5am Club, but this morning he felt that he had earned some extra rest after his robust performance the night before. You told him that he was incredible, and he couldn’t disagree with you. He was an exceptional lover – he made a point of excelling in all areas of importance to him – and he knew it. He had pulled out all the stops for you. He wanted you not only pleasured but impressed; hooked, and wanting more and more. He grinned sleepily at the realization that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he was just as hooked after this first time as you were sure to be.

An obnoxious beam of sunlight soldiered through a gap in the curtains to shine on Jacques’s face, forcing him to blink into consciousness. Groaning at the light, he rolled over to curl into you and pull you close to him, and maybe have you again for breakfast. But his hand fell on a vacant sheet, cool to the touch. That brought him into full alertness like a bucket of ice water dosed over his head. He propped himself up on an elbow and brushed the hair out his eyes as he looked around the room. All of your things had been collected and were gone, and no sound emanated from the open door of the adjoining bathroom.

Jacques was alone.

No woman had ever sneaked out on him before the dawn. Of course, he had done so countless times to countless women, the number of which he couldn’t have remembered or even closely estimated with a gun to his head. But no woman had ever given him the same treatment. It was unthinkable! Jacques had only ever slipped away from women he considered unimportant, disposable – which, admittedly, were most of them – but he would never have ducked out on you, not after the night the two of you had shared.

Last night was only the beginning, he told himself, knowing it must be true. Anything that felt that good, that right, had to be only the start of something great.

A bitter thought slithered into his mind, worse than the gravelly morning-after taste on his tongue. Surely, he wasn’t a disposable fling to you. He couldn’t be. He was more than a one night stand, when he wanted more, anyway. It was unfathomable to think a woman, any woman, wouldn’t want more with him. It was blasphemous, even.

No, that couldn’t be it. Jacques knew you were a busy woman, you must have had things to do and places to be. He too was in demand and could hardly begrudge you the same. Throwing the covers aside, he stood and proceeded to walk around the room naked, looking for anything you may have left behind. He was sure he would find a letter or just a brief note, but there was nothing. He even fogged the bathroom mirror in the chance you were prone to mystery and had left a message on the glass that only mist would reveal. He called your suite, received no answer, and had no better luck calling reception. When he checked his phone to see if there were any messages from you, he realized with a sinking feeling that you had not exchanged numbers.

The room was as though you had never been inside it at all. Only the smell of your perfume on his sheets and the scratches you had traced across his skin were proof that last night had not been only a fantasy.

*******************************************************************************************

Never before had Jacques felt so compelled to chase after a woman, but he restrained himself. The rules of a burgeoning relationship were new to Jacques -- not that he ever played by the rules at anything -- but he thought it only fair that since you had been the one to leave, that the burden was on you to make the first contact. He waited for days for a call or email or text, at first angry and then despondent when nothing came.

Jacques Le Gris, the CEO of La Maison Gris, would not chase after a woman. But for this woman, this one singular woman, he consented to casually saunter in her direction. And he was not pleased about having to do so.

It was Friday morning, nearly a week after your evening together, when Jacques relented. He stood restless in his luxurious office, surrounded by walnut paneling, rich colors, and oil paintings. His office had a regal ambience reminiscent of a Victorian study but with a decidedly masculine touch. Every appliance was ultra-modern and colored in sleek carbon, contrasting chicly with the otherwise vintage style. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over the city of Paris, offering an unobstructed view of the Champs Elysees.

Being at the tops in your respective industries made you each easy to track down, even if then making contact was exponentially more difficult. Jacques called the main branch of Annees Folles Magazine in Manhattan and was given the runaround for the better part of an hour. Christ, it was worse than dealing with an airline. He wondered if he would have to fax a copy of his ID just to speak to a living human who had any authority at all. He was near the limits of his temper, his notorious good humor completely expended, by the time he was put through to your office.

“Editor in Chief’s office.” A curt nasally male voice answered Jacques’s call with a note of disinterest. “Armitage Hux speaking.”

“I’m calling to speak to the Editor in Chief directly, please,” Jacques said in his most diplomatic tone. He added his name, which alone opened most doors for him. “This is Jacques Le Gris.”

“The Editor is not to be disturbed. Furthermore, she only takes calls from those listed on her approved call list.” Came the snide reply. “There’ s no Jack.”

“Jacques,” he enunciated more clearly, adding more force to his voice. “Jacques Le Gris.”

“There is no le Grease on the list either.” A withering sneer could almost be heard through the phone.

“Le Gris,” Jacques corrected, fighting to keep from losing his temper.

“My apologies,” Hux answered without the barest hint of contrition. “Regardless, you are not on the list, Mr. le Grease.”

A frustrated growl slipped out before Jacques could stop it. “For fuck’s sake, ask her about me!”

“There’s really no need for profanity. I’ve already told you, she is not to be disturbed,” Hux continued in a tone that was now verging on bored. “Certainly not by people who aren’t important enough to be on her approved call list, Mr. le Grease.”

“Important?” Jacques laughed at the absurdity. “Do you know who I am? I’m the CEO of La Maison Gris!”

“I’m legally required to say that my opinion does not in any way reflect the views of Annees Folles Magazine, but I have always preferred Gucci,” Hux lilted in his superior manner.

“If Le Grease doesn’t spur her memory, tell her I’m the man she spent last Saturday night with!” Now, Jacques was pissed. Comparing his distinguished line to that family of garish Italians was like slapping a glove across his cheek. “She knew my name then because she was fucking screaming it!”

“Ah, maybe you’re on that list.” Hux smiled deviously, which could be heard on his voice.

Jacques ground his teeth until he thought they would surely crack while he listened to the other man’s unhurried keystrokes as he pulled up that list. Jacques made a mental note to clear that fucking list out for you real fast.

“Barber… McHenry… — forgive me, I’m skimming here — Mills… Ren… Zimmerman…” Hux read through each name with relish. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid that this list is Grease-free as well.”

“Listen, you trumped up little shit.” Jacques finally lost control of his temper. “If I have to get on a fucking plane, walk right in there, and kick the door down to her office —“

“Hold please,” Hux intoned, utterly unconcerned. Music only slightly trendier than elevator music assaulted Jacques across the line.

Jacques punched the end button with as much force as he could muster with his finger on the button that was too small for his thick digit. He caught himself just before he threw his phone across the room, and instead turned and swung a savagely powerful punch into the wall, slamming his fist straight through the plaster.

*******************************************************************************************

Bright and early the following Monday a fresh copy of the American edition of Annees Folles Magazine was delivered by courier to Jacques’s office. There was no accompanying note, but the magazine smelled of the sultry exotic perfume he remembered so well. Jacques knew with absolute certainty who it was from. It was longer than he wanted to wait for an overture from you, but at least it was something.

One of the subheadings on the cover read, A Special Editorial and Behind the Scenes Look into the New Fashion Line of La Maison Gris. Jacques seated himself behind his imposing desk, leaned back in his tufted leather chair, and propped his long legs on his desk, crossing his feet at the ankles. He intended to savor your special editorial on him and his fashion line, expecting to fall even deeper and more hopelessly into the abyss of his feelings for you, into this new and uncharted territory.

Jacques rustled through the pages, eager to find your editorial. Splashed across the page was an extra treat – a startlingly high-quality photograph of his runway with a model in a floral dress with fur cuffs, and front in center silhouetted by the runway lights, the pair of you stood side-by-side in the crowd watching the show. He decided to have it framed for his office, a memento of the night your relationship began. He imagined your smile when he showed it off to you in person.

Below the photograph, the article was not what he expected. It was five-hundred words of honeyed vitriol.

La Maison Gris, with CEO Jacques Le Gris at its helm, has been the rising star in the fashion industry and with good reason. His designs mix ultra-modern chic with the classiest and the most decadent styles history has ever seen. From Victorian era draping and corsets to Regency-esque frocks and slippers to beading and sequins that would flatter the most exuberant 1920’s flapper, Le Gris’s inspiration is regal and refined and imbued with his own signature twist and flourish.

Ascensions, however, are precarious. Climbing to the top in fashion is just as perilous as climbing Mount Everest. One misstep can cost one his career.

Confident in his own grandeur, Le Gris opened his show at Paris Fashion Week with a new line featuring a daring use of fur on every piece. Icarus, too, was daring in his flight toward the blazing Sun. Just like Icarus, Le Gris has reached beyond his capacity and will soon find himself plummeting back to Earth to crash and burn with so many other has-beens whose names are not worth remembering.

Swept up in his penchant for melding modern with iconic, Le Gris does not consider the advances that we as a society have made. No longer do we need to resort to the barbarism of the fur trade to clothe ourselves. Nor do we, as Le Gris would have us believe, need to resort to fur to dress ourselves in the finest fashion and haute couture. Rest assured, dear readers, La Maison Gris is not in the upper echelon of fine fashion and haute couture.

In addition to the heinous and overdone use of fur, Le Gris has the tastelessness to cobble together a kaleidoscope of florals ranging from pastel to electric. His florid color palette can best be described as ‘A Murder of Unicorns,’ as painted by Monet. It reminds one of a cheerily painted playroom inside a children’s mental institution. A more cultured eye will gravitate to Dolce & Gabbana for florals, to Burberry for iconic; and if one is looking for fur, a vintage fox, mink, or sable from a boutique will always carry the day.

Le Gris’s approach to fashion seems to be that a lack of quality can be disguised by flair and concealed with fur. This mirrors the man’s approach to life. A boisterous grandstander, Le Gris tries to project a distinguished air. However, like a magician’s trick revealed, all his flash and charm are little more than smoke and mirrors with no real substance.

A little fur here and there can make a girl purr, but an overuse, such as the spring line of La Maison Gris, is barbarous at best and utterly gauche at worst.

One wonders if Le Gris has the capacity to bear a defeat with dignity, but the smart money will bet on the negative. Like a scavenging hound, Le Gris will likely refurbish his failed spring line for another runway this coming fall or winter. He will certainly gain no traction on any runway of repute. With his brash sensationalism and garish taste, perhaps he shall find his true calling outfitting cosplayers or larpers.

Jacques crumpled the offending magazine in his fist as if he could choke the life from its Editor in Chief through the abused pages. He viciously ripped it in half, throwing each segment across the room in different directions. He wanted to punch another hole in his wall, but his knuckles were still scabbed and bruised from his recent outburst. Not for the first time, he decided to hang a heavyweight punching bag in his office. He glared around his office, looking for something to break. Why the fuck was everything his decorators chose some one-of-a-kind antique?

Sparing his knuckles further damage, he let out a savage growl like a wounded lion. Jacques was breathing as hard as if he had run a mile, his huge chest straining the buttons on his tailored shirt. As he tried ineffectively to calm himself, his shrewd mind began to calculate and strategize. After a few moments of huffing, he decided on his course of action. If you wanted to play dirty, he could roll in the mud with the best of them. Retrieving his phone, he dialed a familiar number.

“Jacques!” Pierre D’Alencon, the Creative Director of La Maison Gris, answered with friendly ebullience. “I was just going to call you. Drinks this weekend? I happened upon a gorgeous set of twins -- redheads, no less -- and of course I’m willing to share with my closest friend.”

“Put the twins on ice for now,” Jacques grumbled gruffly. “This is business. Did you see the editorial in Annees Folles?”

“I did, indeed,” Pierre’s voice lost a hint of its buoyancy. “Hence my offer of drinks and women to lift your spirits.”

“I’ve made a decision, and it involves you. If that glorified tabloid wants to blast me for using fur in my line, I’m going to single-handedly revive the fur-in-fashion trend! We’ll see who holds more power in this little game.” Jacques grinned devilishly at his own newly formed plan of attack like a knight finding a chink in his opponent’s armor. “Which is where you come in. I want to see designs for an entire line with fur on every piece by the end of the month. Get on it, Pierre! Give me your best.”

“Do you not think it best to respond with more dignity and sweep all this unpleasantness under the rug?” Pierre asked with a heavy sigh. “This is why you have PR people.”

“Who was it that said any publicity is good publicity?” Jacques asked, unphased.

“That would be the American spectacle, P.T. Barnum,” Pierre replied with resignation.

“Smart man. I always admired his joie de vivre.” Jacques smirked as he paced across his vast office. “That’s exactly what I want. I want a spectacle. I want a public circus. I want a showdown. We’re going to revive the fur trend, you and I, and I’m going to rub it in that demoness’s face!”

“Ah, so this is all motivated by astute business acumen and professionalism, is it?” Pierre gave a laugh that was ignored.

“Use every kind of fur you can get your hands on. The crueler the fucking better! Lynx, fox, sable, Persian lamb – all the cutest and cuddliest animals. Are chinchillas still a thing? Those too. Can we still get leopard? If you can design a full-length coat made of puppies, do it! Dalmatian with a lynx collar, how about that?” Jacques ran a hand along the shimmering silver streak in his black hair, thinking. “And I don’t want faux anything in sight. I want it all real, all genuine fur.”

Pierre confirmed his understanding of his marching orders and signed off. For so long as their mission remained retaliation and war, anyway. He also decided on a side-quest of sorts, to put his second greatest talent to work while he created a runway line trimmed in fur. He would try his best at figuring out his friend and boss’s quarry, and aid him in hunting the most dangerous game of all, a powerful woman. Perhaps if Jacques could seduce her personally, there would be no need to batter her into submission professionally, and Pierre knew he was just the man for both jobs.

Jacques was still wound up after the call, but now he had a course of action, a focal point, a target at which to channel his anger and frustration. The embers of rage still alighted Jacques’s nerves and the sting of betrayal still burned in his chest. He still wanted to punch something, to find a release. It was a poor substitute, but he ranted and bellowed instead.

“That frigid bitch!” Jacques snarled, glaring out of his window over the streets of Paris. “That shrew. That succubus. Satan. That woman is fucking Satan!”

*******************************************************************************************

To be continued…

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Tagging some fashionistas:

@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @babbushka @mrs-gucci @mrs-zimmerman @iamburdened @gabesprincess @reborn-rekall @maybe-your-left @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @darkhairedmenrule @reyloaddict55 @fizzywoohoo @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @clydesfavoritegirl @bensolodyad @thepalaceofmelanie @celiholland @durangoninetyfive @reveluving @vedavan @fax4life27 @lumberjack00fantasies @kyloremus

#my stuff!#my writing #best #fic #valentine #jacques le gris x reader #jacques le gris x you #jacques

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mariacallous · 4 months

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The latest in a series of duels announced by the European Commission is with Bing, Microsoft’s search engine. Brussels suspects that the giant based in Redmond, Washington, has failed to properly moderate content produced by the generative AI systems on Bing, Copilot, and Image Creator, and that as a result, it may have violated the Digital Services Act (DSA), one of Europe’s latest digital regulations.

On May 17, the EU summit requested company documents to understand how Microsoft handled the spread of hallucinations (inaccurate or nonsensical answers produced by AI), deepfakes, and attempts to improperly influence the upcoming European Parliament elections. At the beginning of June, voters in the 27 states of the European Union will choose their representatives to the European Parliament, in a campaign over which looms the ominous shadow of technology with its potential to manipulate the outcome. The commission has given Microsoft until May 27 to respond, only days before voters go to the polls. If there is a need to correct course, it may likely be too late.

Europe’s Strategy

Over the past few months, the European Commission has started to bang its fists on the table when dealing with the big digital giants, almost all of them based in the US or China. This isn’t the first time. In 2022, the European Union hit Google with a fine of €4.1 billion because of its market dominance thanks to its Android system, marking the end of an investigation that started in 2015. In 2023, it sanctioned Meta with a fine of €1.2 billion for violating the GDPR, the EU’s data protection regulations. And in March it presented Apple with a sanction of €1.8 billion.

Recently, however, there appears to have been a change in strategy. Sanctions continue to be available as a last resort when Big Tech companies don’t bend to the wishes of Brussels, but now the European Commission is aiming to take a closer look at Big Tech, find out how it operates, and modify it as needed, before imposing fines. Take, for example, Europe’s Digital Services Act, which attempts to impose transparency in areas like algorithms and advertising, fight online harassment and disinformation, protect minors, stop user profiling, and eliminate dark patterns (design features intended to manipulate our choices on the web).

In 2023, Brussels identified 22 multinationals that, due to their size, would be the focus of its initial efforts: Google with its four major services (search, shopping, maps, and play), YouTube, Meta with Instagram and Facebook, Bing, X (formerly Twitter), Snapchat, Pinterest, LinkedIn, Amazon, Booking, Wikipedia, Apple’s App Store, TikTok, Alibaba, Zalando, and the porn sites Pornhub, XVideos, and Stripchat. Since then, it has been putting the pressure on these companies to cooperate with its regulatory regime.

The day before the Bing investigation was announced, the commission also opened one into Meta to determine what the multinational is doing to protect minors on Facebook and Instagram and counter the “rabbit hole” effect—that is, the seamless flood of content that demands users’ attention, and which can be especially appealing to younger people. That same concern led it to block the launch of TikTok Lite in Europe, deeming its system for rewarding social engagement dangerous and a means of encouraging addictive behavior. It has asked X to increase its content moderation, LinkedIn to explain how its ad system works, and AliExpress to defend its refund and complaint processes.

A Mountain of Laws …

On one hand, the message appears to be that no one will escape the reach of Brussels. On the other, the European Commission, led by President Ursula von der Leyen, has to demonstrate that the many digital laws and regulations that are in place actually produce positive results. In addition to the DSA, there is the Digital Markets Act (DMA), intended to counterbalance the dominance of Big Tech in online markets; the AI Act, Europe’s flagship legislation on artificial intelligence; and the Data Governance Act (DGA) and the Data Act, which address data protection and the use of data in the public and private sectors. Also to be added to the list are the updated cybersecurity package, NIS2 (Network and Information Security); the Digital Operational Resilience Act, focused on finance and insurance; and the digital identity package within eIDAS 2. Still in the draft stage are regulations on health data spaces and much-debated chat measures which would authorize law enforcement agencies and platforms to scan citizens’ private messages, looking for child pornography.

Brussels has deployed its heavy artillery against the digital flagships of the United States and China, and a few successful blows have landed, such as ByteDance’s suspension of the gamification feature on TikTok Lite following its release in France and Spain. But the future is uncertain and complicated. While investigations attract media interest, the EU’s digital bureaucracy is a large and complex machine to run.

On February 17, the DSA became law for all online service operators (cloud and hosting providers, search engines, e-commerce, and online services) but the European Commission doesn’t and can’t control everything. That is why it asked states to appoint a local authority to serve as a coordinator of digital services. Five months later, Brussels had to send a formal notice to six states (Cyprus, Czechia, Estonia, Poland, Portugal, and Slovakia) to urge them to designate and fully empower their digital services coordinators. Those countries now have two months to comply before Brussels will intervene. But there are others who are also not in the clear. For example, Italy’s digital services coordinator, the Communications Regulatory Authority (abbreviated AGCOM, for Autorità per le Garanzie nelle Comunicazioni, in Italian), needs to recruit 23 new employees to replenish its staff. The department told WIRED Italy that it expects to have filled all of its appointments by mid-June.

The DSA also introduced “trusted flaggers.” These are individuals or entities, such as universities, associations, and fact-checkers, committed to combating online hatred, internet harassment, illegal content, and the spread of scams and fake news. Their reports are, one hopes, trustworthy. The selection of trusted flaggers is up to local authorities but, to date, only Finland has formalized the appointment of one, specifically Tekijänoikeuden tiedotus- ja valvontakeskus ry (in English, the Copyright Information and Anti-Piracy Center). Its executive director, Jaana Pihkala, explained to WIRED Italy that their task is “to produce reports on copyright infringements,” a subject on which the association has 40 years of experience. Since its appointment as a trusted flagger, the center’s two lawyers, who perform all of its functions, have sent 816 alerts to protect films, TV series, and books on behalf of Finnish copyright holders.

… and a Mountain of Data

To assure that the new commission is respected by the 27 states, the commission set up the DSA surveillance system as quickly as possible, but the bureaucrats in Brussels still have a formidable amount of research to do. On the one hand, there is the anonymous reporting platform with which the commission hopes to build dossiers on the operations of different platforms directly from internal sources. The biggest scandals that have shaken Meta have been thanks to former employees, like Christopher Wylie, the analyst who revealed how Cambridge Analytica attempted to influence the US elections, and Frances Haugen, who shared documents about the impacts of Instagram and Facebook on children’s health. The DSA, however, intends to empower and fund the commission so that it can have its own people capable of sifting through documents and data, analyzing the content, and deciding whether to act.

The commission boasts that the DSA will force platforms to be transparent. And indeed it can point to some successes already, for example, by revealing the absurdly inadequate numbers of moderators employed by platforms. According to the latest data released last November, they don’t even cover all the languages spoken in the European Union. X reported that it had only two people to check content in Italian, the language of 9.1 million users. There were no moderators for Greek, Finnish, or Romanian even though each language has more than 2 million subscribers. AliExpress moderates everything in English while, for other languages, it makes do with automatic translators. LinkedIn moderates content in 12 languages of the European bloc—that is, just half of the official languages.

At the same time, the commission has forced large platforms to standardize their reports of moderation interventions to feed a large database, which, at the time of writing this article, contains more than 18.2 billion records. Of these cases, 69 percent were handled automatically. But, perhaps surprisingly, 92 percent concerned Google Shopping. This is because the platform uses various parameters to determine whether a product can be featured: the risk that it is counterfeited, possible violations of site standards, prohibited goods, dangerous materials, and others. It can thus be the case that several alerts are triggered for the same product and the DSA database counts each one separately, multiplying the shopping numbers exponentially. So now the EU has a mass of data that further complicates its goal of being fully transparent.

Zalando’s Numbers

And then there’s the Big Tech companies’ legal battle against the fee they have to pay to the commission to help underwrite its supervisory bodies. Meta, TikTok, and Zalando have challenged the fee (though paid it). Zalando is also the only European company on the commission’s list of large platforms, a designation Zalando has always contested because it does not believe it meets the criteria used by Brussels. One example: The platforms on the list must have at least 45 million monthly users in Europe. The commission argues that Zalando has 83 million users, though that number, for example, includes visits from Portugal, where the platform is not marketed, and Zalando argues those users should be deducted from its total count. According to its calculations, the activities subject to the DSA reach only 31 million users, under the threshold. When Zalando was assessed its fee, it discovered that the commission had based it on a figure of 47.5 million users, far below the initial 83 million. The company has now taken the commission to court in an attempt to assure a transparent process.

And this is just one piece of legislation, the DSA. The commission has also deployed the Digital Markets Act (DMA), a package of regulations to counterbalance Big Tech’s market dominance, requiring that certain services be interoperable with those of other companies, that apps that come loaded on a device by default can be uninstalled, and that data collected on large platforms be shared with small- and medium-size companies. Again, the push to impose these mandates starts with the giants: Alphabet, Amazon, Apple, Meta, ByteDance, and Microsoft. In May, Booking was added to the list.

Big Tech Responds

Platforms have started to respond to EU requests, with lukewarm results. WhatsApp, for instance, has been redesigned to allow chatting with other apps without compromising its end-to-end encryption that protects the privacy and security of users, but it is still unclear who will agree to connect to it. WIRED US reached out to 10 messaging companies, including Google, Telegram, Viber, and Signal, to ask whether they intend to look at interoperability and whether they had worked with WhatsApp on its plans. The majority didn’t respond to the request for comment. Those that did, Snap and Discord, said they had nothing to add. Apple had to accept sideloading—i.e., the possibility of installing and updating iPhone or iPad applications from stores outside the official one. However, the first alternative that emerged, AltStore, offers very few apps at this time. And it has suffered some negative publicity after refusing to accept the latest version of its archenemy Spotify’s app, despite the fact that the audio platform had removed the link to its website for subscriptions.

The DMA is a regulation that has the potential to break the dominant positions of Big Tech companies, but that outcome is not a given. Take the issue of surveillance: The commission has funds to pay the salaries of 80 employees, compared to the 120 requested by Internal Market Commissioner Thierry Breton and the 220 requested by the European Parliament, as summarized by Bruegel in 2022. And on the website of the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA), Adam Kovacevich, founder and CEO of Chamber of Progress, a politically left-wing tech industry coalition (all of the digital giants, which also fund CEPA, are members), stated that the DMA, “instead of helping consumers, aims to help competitors. The DMA is making large tech firms’ services less useful, less secure, and less family-friendly. Europeans’ experience of large tech firms’ services is about to get worse compared to the experience of Americans and other non-Europeans.”

Kovacevich represents an association financed by some of those same companies that the DMA is focused on, and there is a shared fear that the DMA will complicate the market and, in the end, benefit only a few companies—not necessarily those most at risk because of the dominance of Silicon Valley. It is not only lawsuits and fines, but also the perceptions of citizens and businesses that will help to determine whether EU regulations are successful. The results may come more slowly than desired by Brussels as new legislation is rarely positively received at first.

Learning From GDPR and Gaia-X

Another regulatory act, the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), has become the global industry standard, forcing online operators to change the way they handle our data. But if you ask the typical person on the street, they’ll likely tell you it’s just a simple cookie wall that you have to approve before continuing on to a webpage. Or it’s viewed as a law that has required the retention of dedicated external consultants on the part of companies. It is rarely described as the ultimate online privacy law, which is exactly what it is. That said, while the act has reshaped the privacy landscape, there have been challenges, as the digital rights association Noyb has explained. The privacy commissioners of Ireland and Luxembourg, where many web giants are based for tax purposes, have had bottlenecks in investigating violations. According to the latest figures from Ireland’s Data Protection Commission (DPC), 19,581 complaints have been submitted in the past five years, but the body has made only 37 formal decisions and only eight of those began with complaints. Noyb recently conducted a survey of 1,000 data protection officers; 74 percent were convinced that if privacy officers investigated the typical European company, they would find at least one GDPR violation.

The GDPR was also the impetus for another unsuccessful operation: separating the European cloud from the US cloud in order to shelter the data of EU citizens from Washington’s Cloud Act. In 2019, France and Germany announced with great fanfare a federation, Gaia-X, that would defend the continent and provide a response to the cloud market, which has been split between the United States and China. Five years later, the project has become bogged down in the process of establishing standards, after the entry of the giants it was supposed to counter, such as Microsoft, Amazon, Google, Huawei, and Alibaba, as well as the controversial American company Palantir (which analyses data for defense purposes). This led some of the founders, such as the French cloud operator Scaleway, to flee, and that then turned the spotlight on the European Parliament, which led the commission to launch an alternative, the European Alliance for Industrial Data, Edge and Cloud, which counts among its 49 members 26 participants from Gaia-X (everyone except for the non-EU giants) and enjoys EU financial support.

In the meantime, the Big Tech giants have found a solution that satisfies European wishes, investing en masse to establish data centers on EU soil. According to a study by consultancy firm Roland Berger, 34 data center transactions were finalized in 2023, growing at an average annual rate of 29.7 percent since 2019. According to Mordor Intelligence, another market analysis company, the sector in Europe will grow from €35.4 billion in 2024 to an estimated €57.7 billion in 2029. In recent weeks, Amazon web services announced €7.8 billion in investments in Germany. WIRED Italy has reported on Amazon’s interest in joining the list of accredited operators to host critical public administration data in Italy, which already includes Microsoft, Google, and Oracle. Notwithstanding its proclamations about sovereignty, Brussels has had to capitulate: The cloud is in the hands of the giants from the United States who have found themselves way ahead of their Chinese competitors after diplomatic relations between Beijing and Brussels cooled.

The AI Challenge

The newest front in this digital battle is artificial intelligence. Here, too, the European Union has been the first to come up with some rules under its AI Act, the first legislation to address the different applications of this technology and establish permitted and prohibited uses based on risk assessments. The commission does not want to repeat the mistakes of the past. Mindful of the launch of the GDPR, which in 2018 caused companies to scramble to assure they were compliant, it wants to lead organizations through a period of voluntary adjustment. Already 400 companies have declared their interest in joining the effort, including IBM.

In the meantime, Brussels must build a number of structures to make the AI Act work. First is the AI Council. It will have one representative from each country and will be divided into two subgroups, one dedicated to market development and the other to public sector uses of AI. In addition, it will be joined by a committee of technical advisers and an independent committee of scientists and experts, along the lines of the UN Climate Committee. Secondly, the AI Office, which sits within Directorate-General Connect (the department in charge of digital technology), will take care of administrative aspects of the AI Act. The office will assure that the act is applied uniformly, investigate alleged violations, establish codes of conduct, and classify artificial intelligence models that pose a systemic risk. Once the rules are established, research on new technologies can proceed. After it is fully operational, the office will employ 100 people, some of them redeployed from General Connect while others will be new hires. At the moment, the office is looking to hire six administrative staff and an unknown number of tech experts.

On May 29, the first round of bids in support of the regulation expired. These included the AI Innovation Accelerator, a center that provides training, technical standards, and software and tools to promote research, support startups and small- and medium-sized enterprises, and assist public authorities that have to supervise AI. A total of €6 million is on the table. Another €2 million will finance management and €1.5 million will go to the EU’s AI testing facilities, which will, on behalf of countries’ antitrust authorities, analyze artificial intelligence models and products on the market to assure that they comply with EU rules.

Follow the Money

Finally, a total of €54 million is designated for a number of business initiatives. The EU knows it is lagging behind. According to an April report by the European Parliament’s research service, which provides data and intelligence to support legislative activities, the global AI market, which in 2023 was estimated at €130 billion, will reach close to €1.9 trillion in 2030. The lion’s share is in the United States, with €44 billion of private investment in 2022, followed by China with €12 billion. Overall, the European Union and the United Kingdom attracted €10.2 billion in the same year. According to Eurochamber researchers, between 2018 and the third quarter of 2023, US AI companies received €120 billion in investment, compared to €32.5 billion for European ones.

Europe wants to counter the advance of the new AI giants with an open source model, and it has also made its network of supercomputers available to startups and universities to train algorithms. First, however, it had to adapt to the needs of the sector, investing almost €400 million in graphics cards, which, given the current boom in demand, will not arrive anytime soon.

Among other projects to support the European AI market, the commission wants to use €24 million to launch a Language Technology Alliance that would bring together companies from different states to develop a generative AI to compete with ChatGPT and similar tools. It’s an initiative that closely resembles Gaia-X. Another €25 million is earmarked for the creation of a large open source language model, available to European companies to develop new services and research projects. The commission intends to fund several models and ultimately choose the one best suited to Europe’s needs. Overall, during the period from 2021 to 2027, the Digital Europe Program plans to spend €2.1 billion on AI. That figure may sound impressive, but it pales in comparison to the €10 billion that a single company, Microsoft, invested in OpenAI.

The €25 million being spent on the European large language model effort, if distributed to many smaller projects, risks not even counterbalancing the €15 million that Microsoft has spent bringing France’s Mistral, Europe’s most talked-about AI startup, into its orbit. The big AI models will become presences in Brussels as soon as the AI Act, now finally approved, comes into full force. In short, the commission is making it clear in every way it can that a new sheriff is in town. But will the bureaucrats of Brussels be adequately armed to take on Big Tech? Only one thing is certain—it’s not going to be an easy task.

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trialbymagicks · 2 months

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Revisiting Hidden Expedition: Everest (2007) [PC, Steam]

In honor of the 70 years since Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary became the first known people to reach Mt. Everest's summit, let's embark on another Hidden Expedition with the second game in the series. Hidden Expedition: Everest, here we come! 🏔️

Plot

The Hidden Expedition Club sends you, their best thrill-seeking explorer fresh from the depths of the Titanic wreckage, to race to the top of Mount Everest. Armed with a keen eye and the advice of “expert Everest climber” Ed Viesturs, you have all the information you need to beat the competition – two spry old ladies and their bereaved ferret, a couple of bookworms, and a group of Big Fish Games fans – never mind the fact that you presumably have no prior training for such a feat. But first, you must track an eccentric mountain climber across three continents to discover what he knows about a secret passageway through Mount Everest before you challenge the mountain yourself.

Introduction

For the second game in the series, Big Fish Games partnered with National Geographic Ventures and Ed Viesturs to create Hidden Expedition: Everest, which took the casual game market by storm upon its release on June 1, 2007. In fact, it was so successful that it was the first game in the series to get the iOS treatment, subsequently proving to the company that the mobile market was also a profitable one.

While Titanic’s set dressing tapped into the world’s curiosity and fascination regarding the famous sunken wreck, Everest’s mission was to inspire in its players a sense of adventure and love for the world we live in. Boasting more than 30 scenes from around the world and exclusive footage from Ed Viesturs’ travels, this game certainly makes an effort to shove as much as it can into a small package. Unfortunately, some scenes may not be as sensitively or accurately depicted as they could have been. Some of this can be blamed on the lack of theme in the randomized hidden object lists, but certain aspects do fall victim to the tendency to generalize entire cultures.

Everest At A Glance

The start menu is a fantastic display of this game’s improved quality. Epic music immediately puts you in the mood for a high stakes international expedition, which the soundtrack continues to deliver on throughout the game, and the scenery already lets you know that you’re going to be treated to some beautiful sites.

The most interesting new feature, a black book, sits in the bottom left corner and there is now a high score section for cataloguing your completion time. Upon pressing play at the start of a new game, the National Geographic documentary footage rolls and we are treated to an early example of how cutscenes would eventually become a selling point of the genre.

Unfortunately, it becomes evident right away that the clarity of the Steam port’s hidden object scenes is lacking compared to its predecessor. The images appear fuzzier and objects blend in almost seamlessly with the scenery. This appears to have been an intentional part of the gameplay designed to raise the difficulty level and encourage players to use some of the new features – such as a more effective pause option and the hourglass – to help them on their quest. Objects can take a lot longer to find as a result, though thankfully some scenes cause less eye strain than others and the game isn’t unplayable by any means.

Once again, Steam reviews on the store page reported concerns about the game not opening to full screen or being too clunky on a higher end PC. So, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I did not have either problem – even running it on a Windows 10 system!

Fair warning: Just like with Hidden Expedition: Titanic, you are required to grant the program permission to make changes to your computer upon first startup. This appears to be what allows the game to automatically change its resolution and open to full screen in order to accommodate for its original smaller size… which I suspect may be a contributing factor to the fuzzy image quality, but I’m no expert. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, you may want to pass on picking it up because the game will not run if you don’t give it permission. You can, of course, choose to play the game in windowed mode later on if that is a more comfortable fit for you.

But fear not, the screen resolution is immediately restored to your previous setting once the game is closed! During my multiple replays, there was only one instance where I had to manually reset the resolution for my screen after closing the game. Admittedly, the main difference between Titanic and Everest is that the former is way less clunky about the resolution difference and doesn’t hinder me from using the Windows Start button to return to my default resolution desktop without quitting.

Regardless, I am happy to finally be able to experience the game in full after so many years of burning curiosity!

How To Play

Although Hidden Expedition: Everest kicks the difficulty level up a notch, the gameplay remains just as intuitive as its predecessor and the rules are also simple to grasp:

Complete all scenes (plus bonus round) in each level to move on to the next level.

Each level is timed, allotting a certain number of minutes to complete.

Find all hidden objects in each scene before the timer runs out.

Clicking on the wrong object too quickly or too often negatively impacts your position in the race.

A short amount of time can be gained by finding the hidden hourglass in each scene.

Finding all 5 gems in each scene grants you an extra hint for the level.

There are 4 zones you must navigate throughout this game, but don’t let the small number fool you! Somewhat like a nesting doll, each zone consists of multiple levels inside which are two or three locations you must visit and complete the hidden object scenes within before you can move on to the next stretch of this grand adventure.

If you thought the time limit for each Titanic dive was stressful, Everest raises the bar even higher. This time, instead of racing against your dwindling oxygen supply, you’re racing against three competing AI teams who move at randomized speeds to keep you on your toes. Your goal is to gain and maintain the lead by completing each level before the AI teams do.

For every item you find, your marker – a white arrow located along the bottom of the item list in every hidden object scene – is moved forward in the race. Unfortunately, if you misclick too many times on the screen, you will be penalized and the AI teams’ markers will be moved forward, which can potentially cost you your lead. But because fortune favors those with good eyesight, if you find the hourglass hidden in the scene, time will stop and the AI teams will be frozen in place just long enough for you to catch up and scoot ahead. (We don’t need to address the fact that this implies some type of time-bending magic in the Hidden Expedition universe, but do keep that tidbit of knowledge in your back pocket for later.)

At the end of each level, the game will show you the current times and ranking for each team. It should be fairly easy to finish in first place, but just in case you somehow didn’t, this screen is your chance to return to the level and replay it for another shot at the lead! This is something you probably will want to do if you happen to be a completionist.

Collecting all 5 gems in a scene grants you one extra hint, which is difficult to do because the gems are blurry and hard to pinpoint in some scenes due to the game’s odd resolution. Take note that each level grants you 3 hints and you have the opportunity to earn 2 or 3 extra hints if you find all of the gems in the level. While your stash of 3 to 6 hints do carry over between scenes in the level you find them in, they do not carry over between levels or zones. So, strategize your use of them wisely before you lose them!

After all hidden object scenes in a level have been cleared, you will be presented with a minigame. This will either be an extra hidden object scene or a puzzle where you must piece together some type of map or artifact that is vaguely connected to the plot. Complete the challenge before time runs out and the mission will reward you with the next clue to the whereabouts of the mysterious expert adventurer that you’ve been tailing, propelling you forward in your brazen attempt to discover his secrets.

On the plus side, due to the added length of the game, you can now return to the start menu or quit the game in the middle of a level without fear of the level resetting on you like the dives in the Titanic game would. You can even return to the map during your exploration of a hidden object scene and jump around to the other available scenes without losing your progress. The number on the red location markers will remind you of how many items you have left to find in each scene.

As usual, you will be asked to complete one final (rather intuitive) puzzle upon reaching the summit to claim your victory! Despite its intimidating appearance, this one is very forgiving and does not appear to be timed, so don’t sweat the small stuff here.

How very “aliens built the secret tunnel” of you, Big Fish Games.

First Time Features

In keeping with the Hidden Expedition series’ educational format, “world-famous mountaineer and Mount Everest climber” Ed Viesturs keeps butting in to narrate fun facts or “helpful advice” about his knowledge and every time he does I feel like I’m back in a lecture hall politely waiting for the teacher to stop talking so I can leave. His line delivery is so stiff it’s clear that he’s reading from a script, but given that this is the first time voiceovers were introduced to the Hidden Expedition series I can’t help but find it charming.

This is also the first Hidden Expedition to include a journal feature for storing educational trivia gathered throughout the adventure.

Here, it takes the form of Ed Viesturs’ photo album where you can view photographs and videos from his travels (which he dutifully narrates over, making him seem even more like a world history professor flexing on his students with his vacation photos) alongside his personal biography. Click on his face and he’ll even recite one of a handful of prerecorded lines from his motivational speeches! New photos and voiceovers unlock as you clear zones in first place, and he’ll certainly make sure to inform you that new content is available as you proceed. You can return to the start menu to check out his travel logs anytime.

Similarly, this game introduces the next new feature – a collection of secret items (like a pumpkin) that you can find in hidden object scenes!

This seems to be the predecessor of the admittedly more straightforward “morphing items” feature in later games. The “secret” in the name is the key word here because the game will not tell you about their existence until you happen to click on one either by accident or out of curiosity to see if that object will match a description on your item list.

This feels a little backwards, considering the game makes a point of punishing players for misclicking and doesn’t exactly encourage exploration. But since Ed Viesturs keeps reminding us that climbing Everest is a challenge, I suppose it only makes sense that this game should be filled with unforeseen challenges too!

The Story So Far...

When we last saw our intrepid adventurer, Eris was hanging out in the remains of a deep-sea death trap, aka: the wreckage of the RMS Titanic. But diving – yes, diving – 12,600 feet below sea level was the equivalent of a nice vacation for this adrenaline junkie because they are fresh off the dive and raring to ascend more than 29,000 feet above sea level to the summit of Mt. Everest!

For some undisclosed reason – most likely related to the suspicious disappearance of a mysterious mountain climber in Kathmandu who was rambling about a secret tunnel through the mountain – the Hidden Expedition Team has chosen Eris (who quickly teams up with professional mountaineer Ed Viesturs) to represent them in a race against the public to reach the summit.

But of course not all is what it seems and who – or what exactly – should they discover along the way? Well…

Catch the full story as soon as I finish wrapping my head around the conspiracy board I've accidentally created.

Resources

For more information on the series, check out the Hidden Expedition Wikipedia page, the Big Fish Games Hidden Expedition Website, and the Hidden Expedition TV Tropes page.

If you’re curious to read more about the National Geographic partnership with Big Fish Games, you can check out this Information Week article.

In a shocking twist that surprised absolutely no one, National Geographic christened Ed Viesturs with the title of Adventurer of the Year in 2005 upon the completion of his 18-year mission to reach the summits of all fourteen of the world’s 8000-meter peaks without supplemental oxygen. After all these years, you can still keep up with what he’s doing at his website, many passages from which are used verbatim in the game.

Note: This article was originally posted on WordPress on May 29, 2023.

#Hidden Expedition #Hidden Expedition Everest #Big Fish Games #hidden object games #games #posts on trial

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alltoowelltom · 2 years

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miss americana & the heartbreak prince [part three]

tom holland x actress!reader

series summary: when you're called in to fake date tom holland for two months to fix his public image, you never expect anything to blossom between the two of you...

+ series masterlist

☆°・ chapter three ・°☆

“Are you ready?” asks Tom.

He reaches out across the leather backseat and pokes your arm gently. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” you blink at him, lifting your head off the cool glass of the window.

“I said, are you ready for this?” Tom repeats himself, chuckling at your bemused state.

“Oh,” you sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The car comes to a stop outside the venue and you can already hear the screaming. The door on Tom’s side opens and he steps out, waving at the crowd. You paste on a pageant smile as you slide across the back seat and step out onto the red carpet, accepting Tom’s hand to help you out. The flashing lights are always a shock no matter how many times you do this. You take a deep breath, using Tom’s hand resting firmly on your back to ground yourself as you fix your sparkly dress and step onto the first subtly marked spot.

“Y/N, Tom, over here!” the first pap yells.

“How are you feeling about the premiere of your new movie, Y/N?”

“Give us a smile, Y/N!”

“Tom, what happened with Saul Michaels?!”

You feel Tom hitch in a breath as you pose together for pictures. He stares blankly ahead as paps continue to harass him about the drama with Origin.

“Tom,” you whisper as you bring a perfectly manicured hand to rest on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Tom whimpers ever so quietly. “I- I- feel like I can’t breathe,” he mutters. “I’ve forgotten how to breathe.” You can feel him starting to hyperventilate beside you, the constant flash of cameras casting shadows on his slipping smile.

“Y/N,” he whispers urgently. “Y/N I think I’m having a panic attack!” his brown eyes search yours for help and you can feel him shake where his hand still rests on your back. He’s entirely lost in the lights, unable to move or think clearly.

“Come on,” you whisper. “I’ll get us out of here.”

The cameras don’t catch your conversation and only see the smallest hint of panic cross Tom’s features. You lead him across the carpet, ignoring your managers’ shouts that you need to stay and get more pictures taken. Entering the venue, you see a tiny closet marked ‘maintenance’. Bingo.

“Tom, look at me.” you say firmly, shutting the door behind you. “Tom?” he looks at you, fingers squeezing your arm in panic.

“Can you sit down for me?” you ask gently, gesturing to a large crate. Tom all but collapses onto the floor and you sit next to him, holding one of his hands in yours and squeezing reassuringly.

“Tom, I need you to breathe.” you say. “Just in…and out…and in…and out…that’s it, you’ve got it” you say, smiling when he copies your breathing pattern and you can see a hint of pink flooding back into his cheeks.

“I feel like-” he stutters, wiping furiously at his watery eyes. “I feel like everybody hates me and I wish I’d never signed onto that stupid project in the first place. I swear I didn’t do anything wrong but everyone thinks I’m a terrible person.” he bites his lip to keep from crying.

“It’s okay baby,” you whisper, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You can cry, I know you’re going through something.”

Tom’s chin wobbles for a second before he begins to sob, tucking his head into your neck. You rub his suit-covered back gently, allowing him to find a safe space with you while he copes.

Soon his muffled cries turn into gentle sniffles and he lifts his head weakly. You pout at his puffy cheeks, reaching up to grab a box of tissues you’d spotted.

“Sorry, I cried all over you,” he mutters, embarrassed.

You shake your head as you hand him a tissue and wait for him to blow his nose before continuing.

“Tom, It’s fine. I know you’re in a really scary situation right now.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you into it,” he says. “I know Summit didn’t really give us much of a choice, but I could’ve said something. Now you’re stuck trying to rescue my career as well as protect yours.

“For the love of God Tom, I’ve told you I don’t mind,” you laugh and Tom giggles slightly at your outburst. “I care about you.” you say. “Well, at least I think I do. I don’t really know you yet.”

Tom nods.

“It feels a bit like that, doesn’t it?” he agrees. “We’ve gone from total strangers to being in a committed relationship and I still don’t know your favorite color.”

You smile.

“It’s pink.”

Tom scrunches up his nose.

“Pink? Are you serious? How old are you? Five?”

“Hey!” you laugh. “Pink is a perfectly respectable favorite color. And that’s really misogynistic of you to judge.” you say playfully. “Go on then, you snob. What’s yours?”

“Blue.” he says confidently.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re a basic bitch, Tom.”

As he laughs you pull another tissue from the pack and gently wipe away the last of his tears from his soft cheeks. He looks up at you through his damp eyelashes and you have to physically swallow away the emotion.

“Are you ready to head back out there?” you ask. “We can skip the red carpet and go straight to our seats.”

Tom nods, taking the tissue from your hand and chucking it along with his in the trashcan. You make sure to keep one arm wrapped around his for the rest of the night, and from the way his eyes crinkle whenever he looks over at you during the movie, colorful scenes reflecting off his skin you can tell how safe you make him feel.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

You don’t see Tom for over a week after the premiere. You’re caught up doing press for Cruel Summer and you’d both decided you should give the public a break from your “relationship” anyway. It’s the strangest thing, even while being so occupied with work you keep noticing things you want to tell Tom about: a cute puppy in the street, two little kids playing superheroes in Central Park. Each time you have to resist the urge to text him, reminding yourself that work was work - and this relationship was strictly professional.

The next time you do see him it’s a dinner date planned for a cosy restaurant on the Upper East Side. It was supposed to be busy enough that you and Tom would likely be spotted together, but you wouldn’t be swarmed by an army of people looking for photos and signatures. You enter the restaurant, admiring the tiny colored lanterns that hung over each table and splayed tiny mosaic patterns onto the brick walls.

“Y/N!” Tom waves you over to a table he’d already snagged for the two of you. He’s wearing jeans and a Prada jacket, fitting snugly against his biceps.

“Hi darling,” he greets, kissing you on the cheek before you sit down.

“Hey,” you say, picking up the menu.

“That’s it?” he laughs. “Just, ‘hi’ and then you’ve got your nose straight into the menu?” he says. “Not a hi Tom, how are you, how’ve you been?”

“A girl is hungry, okay?” you laugh but put the menu down and reach out to hold his hands in your own. You don’t miss the two girls at the table opposite, subtly pulling out their phones at the contact.

“Hi Tom, how are you, how have you been?” you parrot back to him.

“Wonderful, my love.” he chuckles, laughing harder when you go straight back into the menu.

After you’ve both ordered and your drinks have arrived, Tom seems to remember something.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” he begins a little uncertainly.

You set down your drink, nodding for him to continue.

“It just occurred to me the other night that this whole time I’ve been complaining about having to lie to my family about us, but I never even asked about you.” he says. “Is your family here in the city? You’ve lived here your whole life, right?”

Tom picks up on the slight shift to your mood and it’s as if he watches a wall go up, real time.

“Not really, no,” you admit. “I’ve got a sister but we haven’t spoken in a few years. Last I heard from her she was travelling Europe with some friends but that was a while ago, so I don’t really know what she’s doing now.”

“And your parents…?” Tom asks delicately.

“They aren’t in my life at the moment.” you say firmly.

Tom can sense that you clearly don’t want to get into it with him, especially not in such a public setting so he drops the subject.

“Did I tell you how stunning you were in Cruel Summer?” he says instead. “I literally thought my balls were going to fall off, you looked that good,” he says, grinning when your mood lifts and you accidentally spit a sip of your drink all over the table in shock.

tysm for reading! please consider reblogging, it really helps a writer out <3

series taglist: @scenesofobx @lnmp89 @mayal0pez @alisslahey @nahhcuhh @youcantseem3 @theekyliepage @racavalier @wh0reforbucknasty @moniffazictress11 @st3rgirl @liltimmyst @fangirling-galore @katknip

#tom holland series #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland smau

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patchdotexe · 1 year

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i'm thinking of doing an animation meme myself, do you have any recommendations? :O

GOOD NEWS I HAVE AN ENTIRE PLAYLIST

(warning: some of these are loud and flashy or have blood and there's some with ableist language in titles. also there's some repeats because of variations)

it really depends on what kind of mood you're going for? you can kinda break animemes down into categories - there's the intense/edgy/angsty/ominous ones (Ping!, Avenge,Wake Up, I Need A Win), the cute/chill/sometimes romantic?? ones (Thinking About You, New Light,Feeling Down), and then the really energetic/bouncy/usually silly ones (Dinosaurs Go Rawr, Candy Pump, Chok Chok), but then there's also stuff like "is this built with multiple characters in mind, or for characters with certain features (eg wings), etc"

from there it's a matter of figuring out which ones look less complex / are more approachable for starting out, which is. probably the question you're actually asking me DFGHXLKDFHGLK so here is an arbitrary list:

NAMx (simple loop with effects, focused on expressions)

Beings (variations on same character)

i was gonna put Shelter here bc that was one of my firsts but the original appears to be gone now and its just the variation?? uhhhh

Blast Doors (simple loop with pose changes)

ITS OK (simple loop focused on expressions with more variation than NAMx)

Bad Vibe (lipsync focused so. probably not a good starter actually bc lipsync is hell. whoops)

Pop It! (simple loop without much effects, also hi i made this one years ago so i have a bias lmao)

and i am also now discovering exactly how GARBAGE youtube's search has gotten in the past couple years because it is genuinely getting impossible to find variations on certain animemes without wading through completely unrelated ones and im going to start biting

however out of all of that the most important part is finding an animeme that has a song youll be able to stand listening to on repeat LMAO. i used to look up "[song i like] animation meme" and go from there. also looking through what animemes animators you like make (eg ive been looking at Polar Summit's stuff lately) and going "oh this looks cool i wanna try"

but also like. in general. the animeme community has a really big problem with flashing lights / fast images / eyestrain. people have gotten better about warning for it but old animemes especially go all-in on it (trying to find a non-flashy version of Nice Day that was close to the original's pose/vibe last night was REALLY hard) so be careful when looking for stuff if youre sensitive to that :(

#leo chirps #leos reply #transmorolians #ica.txt #HI. BIRD INFODUMP TIME. OK GOODBYE #long post

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xtruss · 1 year

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‘Africa Is Fighting, Africa Will Win’: How Soviet Art Supported the Decolonization of the ‘Dark Continent’

The liberation of Africa from the oppression of Western colonizers in the 1960s became one of the main themes of Soviet propaganda posters

In the second half of the 20th century, the African continent lived through its own ‘parade of sovereignties.’ In 1960 alone, 17 new nations gained independence in what was formerly colonial Africa. While remaining economically dependent on Europe, the former colonies fought for political independence. The USSR tried to provide them with as much assistance as possible and in fact initiated the adoption of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples at the 15th session of the UN General Assembly. At that time, a point appeared in the Program of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, the main strategic policy document of the country, stating that “the national liberation movement is one of the main anti-imperialist forces.”

In addition to providing diplomatic, economic, and military assistance to anti-colonial movements in Africa, the USSR also made use of propaganda. From images of a black slave breaking shackles, to depictions of an international union of workers of all skin colors, and the black population shown groaning under the oppression of white colonizers, African themes became an integral part of Soviet propaganda posters.

At the second Russia-Africa Summit, which opened in St. Petersburg on Wednesday, the pavilions were decorated with Soviet posters exploring the decolonization of the African continent. Below, we’ve assembled some of the most interesting images.

Top Left: The creator of this poster is acclaimed Soviet artist Viktor Koretsky, who made over 40 emotionally charged posters during the Second World War. In the 1960s, the struggle against colonialism in Africa became one of his main themes. The inscription on this poster says, “Freedom to all nations of Africa!”

Top Right: One of the first posters showing the struggle of African nations against Western colonizers was created in 1960 by a group of Soviet graphic artists known as Kukryniksy.The image of a black man who strangles his former oppressor with broken chains is accompanied by an inscription that says, “The nations of Africa will rein in colonizers!”

Bottom: This poster, also by Koretsky created in the style of socialist realism, shows a black man breaking the shackles that bind him. The inscription says, “Africa is fighting, Africa will win!”

Top: Another poster by Koretsky depicts a black man who received a paper from Western countries promising “aid to underdeveloped countries.” However, glancing back, he sees how the same hands that gave him the paper are trying to steal from a basket inscribed with the words “natural resources.” The inscription reads “Neocolonialism is the plunder of nations.”

Bottom Left: The conflict between the oppressors and the oppressed was not the only theme that emerged in Soviet posters of the time. Artists often explored the constructive side of decolonization. For example, this poster is by Soviet-Armenian painter Eduard Artsrunyan, a major figure in modern Armenian art. The work was created at the very beginning of his career, shortly after he graduated from the Institute of Art. The image of a young African man ready to build a happy future in his homeland is accompanied by the inscription, “Africa is building. Africa will win!”

Bottom Right: Artsrunyan created another poster on the same theme two years later, in 1965. This one features an African mother – another popular image for Soviet artists. “Out of darkness and slavery – to freedom, to happiness,” says the inscription.

Left: This poster, created by the artist couple Vladimir and Irina Kalensky in 1961, was dedicated to the parade of sovereignties on the African continent. The inscription on the poster, which shows a black girl bearing the flags of the newly formed nations, says, “The wind of freedom is blowing over Africa!”

Middle: This 1960 poster, made by artists Oleg Maslyakov and Efim Tsvik, also avoids direct political slogans. Instead, it looks forward to a new beginning for the African continent as it awakens from its colonial slumber. “Good morning, Africa,” reads the inscription.

Right: A work by Nina Vatolina, the creator of the famous Soviet poster “Don't chatter”, picks up the theme of the previous poster five years later in 1965. The inscription reads “We live in a free Africa!”

Top: Some of the works of Soviet graphic artists were devoted to prominent figures of the African liberation movement. For example, this one by Viktor Koretsky is dedicated to the memory of the independence fighter and first prime minister of the Democratic Republic of Congo Patrice Lumumba, who was killed in 1961. Lumumba is shown against the silhouette of the African continent and with the same silhouette in his heart. It is accompanied by the inscription, “He carried Africa in his heart.”

Bottom Left: Many poster artists drew parallels between the October Revolution in Russia and the liberation movement in Africa. For example, this 1969 poster by Vasily Boldyrev shows a young black man with a rifle illuminated by the light of the Soviet cruiser Aurora – one of the main symbols of the Russian Revolution. “The Great Lenin has illuminated our path,” reads the inscription.

Bottom Right: Lumumba is also mentioned in a work by poster artist Vadim Volikov titled ‘Hold the colonizers to account!’ It shows African and Arab liberation fighters with a Russian proletarian. Together, they threaten a serviceman clutching a blood-covered knife and bearing the inscription “colonialism" on his helmet. The fighters against colonialism hold posters in three languages, which proclaim:

– We mourn for Lumumba, Africa must live, Remove Hammarskjöld! – [Arabic] Down with colonialism, victory to the peoples! – [Russian] Down with colonialism, free Africa!

Top: Many poster artists drew parallels between the October Revolution in Russia and the liberation movement in Africa. For example, this 1969 poster by Vasily Boldyrev shows a young black man with a rifle illuminated by the light of the Soviet cruiser Aurora – one of the main symbols of the Russian Revolution. “The Great Lenin has illuminated our path,” reads the inscription.

Bottom: This work created jointly by Viktor Koretsky and Yuri Kershin in 1967 shows an African independence fighter as a mirror image of a Russian proletarian revolutionary. The poster bears a quote from the theses adopted by the Central Committee of the USSR’s Communist Party for the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution:

”The Great October Socialist Revolution dealt a severe blow to the entire system of imperialist colonial rule, and became a powerful stimulus for the development of the national liberation movement.”

The inscription states, “The chains are breaking – this is an echo of our revolution!”

Left: This work by Vladimir Menshikov belongs to the late school of Soviet poster art – it was created in 1980, when the Cold War had entered a new stage of tension. The man depicted in the lower left-hand corner holds a flag with the inscription “Give us freedom!” The image is accompanied by a Poem:

The time of retribution is coming,

The flames of battle flare up;

Throwing off the despised load from their shoulders,

Slaves gain freedom

Middle: This 1967 poster by Soviet and Russian artist of Azerbaijani origin Vilen Karakashev shows the irreversibility of the anti-colonial movement in Africa. “You cannot extinguish the dawn of freedom!” the poster says.

Right: A poster by artist Nikolay Smolyak from 1961 depicts a young African man ‘shoveling out’ a colonialist, who leaves behind footprints bearing the words “slavery, robbery, hunger and terror” on African soil. The inscription says,“Colonialism has NO place on Earth!”

Left: In the USSR, the campaign supporting the African struggle against Western colonial powers was backed not only by individual artists, but also by various publications. For example, this is the cover of the September 1960 issue of the satirical magazine ‘Crocodile’. “Clear out!” says a dark-skinned young man with a broom, banishing Western oppressors from his continent.

Middle: A similar theme is explored by Alexander Vyaznikov and Vasily Fomichev in a poster created in 1972. It is accompanied by a Poem:

Old-school colonizers

As well as modern ones

Should all be sent to the dump

Such is their fate!

Right: The political regime in South Africa, where the Apartheid system even outlasted the USSR, came in for particularly sharp criticism by Soviet artists. In this poster by Eduard Artsrunyan, a black man is trying to break chains that resemble the borders of South Africa. “Colonialism is doomed!” says the inscription.

A 1978 poster titled ‘The Grin of Racism’ by artist Fyodor Nelyubin touches on the same theme. He portrays an embittered colonizer whose sinister smile spells out the words “apartheid” and “genocide.” The work is accompanied by a Short Poem:

In this deadly fight he won’t retain

His old colonial ways!

Another work by Nelyubin, painted in the same year, ridicules the unwillingness of Western imperialists to understand the hostile attitude demonstrated towards them by Africa’s local population. The poster titled ‘Black Ingratitude’ is accompanied by a Poem:

Malicious alarm spreads in the racist camps

Foster is angry, indignant is Smith:

We’ve done so much for the Blacks

But all they shout is “Down with apartheid!”

— By Georgiy Berezovsky, Vladikavkaz-based Journalist | RT | 26 July, 2023

#Africa #Soviet Union – USSR #Dark Continent #Decolonization #Libration #Libration of Africa #Western Colonizers #Soviet Propaganda Posters #20th Century #Parade of Sovereignties #UN General Assembly #Russia-Africa Summit #St. Petersburg

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cyarskj1899 · 2 years

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Getty Pool

R. Kelly Has Been Sentenced. Here's What Black Women Activists Have to Say

We talked with Tarana Burke, Sil Lai Abrams, and #MuteRKelly founders Oronike Odeleye and Kenyette Barnes

Hanna Phifer

Jun. 29, 2022 03:32PM EST

*Editors note: this article contains information about sexual assault, child pornography and rape. Please read with care. If you have experienced sexual violence and are in need of crisis support, please call the RAINN Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673). If you are thinking about suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or the Suicide Crisis Line at 1-800-784-2433.

On June 29th, R&B singer and producer Robert Kelly, best known by his stage name R. Kelly was sentenced to 30 years in prison by New York Federal Court after being convicted in September of 2021 on charges of racketeering and sex trafficking. The sentencing was announced after many of his victims tearfully shared the impact his graphic abuse of them has had on their lives. This conviction and sentencing come nearly thirty years after the singer began facing allegations ranging from rape, possessing child pornography, marrying a then-15-year-old Aaliyah, having his own sex cult, and more.

In the weeks leading up to the sentencing, xoNecole spoke with four Black women activists who work diligently to address sexual violence within the music industry and writ large on R. Kelly’s conviction. Now that Kelly has been sentenced, we’re sharing our conversations with each one, condensed below: author and founder of the Me Too movement Tarana Burke (featured in the docuseries Surviving R. Kelly and the Russell Simmons documentary On The Record) and the founders of the #MuteRKelly movement Kenyette Barnes and Oronike Odeleye (who also appeared in Surviving R. Kelly ) and author and activist Sil Lai Abrams, who shared allegations against Russell Simmons in The Hollywood Reporter and the HBOMax documentary On The Record.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK - JUNE 07: Tarana Burke speaks onstage at the TIME100 Summit 2022 at Jazz at Lincoln Center on June 7, 2022 in New York City. Photo by Jemal Countess/Getty Images for TIME

xoNecole: I also invited journalist and Surviving R Kelly documentarian dream hampton who declined an interview but did provide a statement:

“As someone who wants to believe in restorative justice, I think this could have been the beginning of actual healing and justice had R Kelly, at any point, admitted to the harm he's caused for decades. His victim should have a financial fund from which they can draw to rebuild their lives. He could have changed the culture by being accountable in this way. He could have opened up a conversation where predators and abusers could enter too. Which is radical. But no, he'll have his sentence meted out to him by a broken system. He will continue to have the currency of love and devotion by countless Black people, even as he spends these years in prison. It is all a shame.”

xoNecole: What was your initial reaction to the news of R. Kelly’s conviction?

Tarana Burke: I was asked this question when [Harvey] Weinstein was convicted when [Bill] Cosby was convicted and it stays the same: these convictions are not a victory. I understand the catharsis for the survivors. There is a duality, that you have an immediate sort of excitement that feels like we have *something.* Right? You can’t help it. I think that’s human nature. That feeling of we have something, especially as Black women. Because we never get anything. So, I think there’s that first wave of that.

And then there’s the immediate slap in the face – especially if you engage in anything public, like social media or walking down the street – of the rejection of that. So my reaction came in stages, is what I’m explaining. That first stage of sort of surprise and relief that we got something. And that something is acknowledgment of that – even from a f-cked up system – an acknowledgment that our trauma and our pain deserve acknowledgment. It deserves accountability. You have that first wave and then you get slapped in the face with “no, it doesn’t.” I don’t know if we even had sixty seconds of whatever that first wave was. I get settled in just the catharsis of the survivors. It’s like they get a chance to breathe after holding this sh-t for so long. They get a chance to be like, “I get to hold something.”

Sil Lai Abrams: I was not surprised because the conviction was the result of decades of lobbying by activists and advocates. In many ways, his social currency in the Black community was diminished in a way that would enable a conviction to occur in the criminal legal system. To dream’s point, the system as it exists is not one that takes into consideration the needs of survivors or even those that have caused harm. He’s being used as a totem in many respects and I believe that his conviction in some way shields other people who cause sexual harm because I think that society can look at him, point to what will occur with him, and say, “You see? The system works because R. Kelly went to prison.” When in fact, his incarceration does nothing to address the systemic nature of sexual violence and the very broad ways in which harm affects our entire society.

Oronike Odeleye: Honestly, my first reaction was relief. I was relieved for his victims because they have been gaslit for years about the abuse that they’ve suffered. I was also relieved for myself. This has been a long journey that I did not mean to embark on [as a founder of the #MuteRKelly movement]. It’s been emotional and hard, so I’m glad that my part was over and now someone else can take over. And I was relieved for our community because for so many people, a lot of the visceral and emotional reaction they had to this was not necessarily about R. Kelly but about their own interactions. Their own experiences of abuse and trauma that they had carried, a lot of the secrets they had carried and they wanted to see justice play out. I was relieved for everyone involved.

Kenyette Barnes: It was very complex emotions. There was sadness of course because no one wants to be a part of perpetuating a broken system that over incarcerates Black bodies. However, thirty years has gone by and nothing has been done. And on several occasions, I believe that Robert Kelly had the opportunity to fix this in some way and didn’t. So my feelings were sadness because I feel like why did it get this far? My next emotion was a sense of relief for the survivors. They had been fighting for years. The #MuteRKelly movement had put that advocacy on a global stage. And through strategic organizing had resulted in a financial boycott of his music. We received some backlash and unfortunately, this accountability included the criminal justice system.

PARK CITY, UTAH - JANUARY 25: Sil Lai Abrams attends the 2020 Sundance Film Festival - "On The Record" Premiere at The Marc Theatre on January 25, 2020 in Park City, Utah.(Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images)

xoNecole: It’s been nearly thirty years since allegations against R. Kelly first started. Why do you think it’s only now that we’re seeing a conviction?

TB: There had to be like six exposés. I feel like The Miami Herald did one. The Chicago Tribune did one. The Village Voice did one. And so, it’s not from lack of media coverage. It’s not from a lack of raising voices. Every Black woman journalist that I know has been raising their voice across social media. More than one social media campaign. Because #MuteRKelly preceded #MeToo going viral. People conflate those two. The #MuteRKelly hashtag started in August of 2017 after the article came out in Buzzfeed. It got amplified after the #MeToo movement went viral [in October 2017]. So, it took all of that and then the documentary to get people to pay attention. But it was like we had to stand on our heads and light ourselves on f-cking fire in order to get one singular Black man. There’s this narrative about the Black man being targeted. It’s so crazy because that was the singular person. And to your point, we’ve been talking about him for nearly twenty-five, thirty years. And it took that because of that famous Jim DeRogatis quote from The Village Voice where he says the one thing that he’s discovered in all these years that he’s been chasing R. Kelly is that nobody in America matters less than Black girls. I’m paraphrasing the quote, but I’ll never forget reading that quote. This is a sixty-something-year-old white man from Chicago who writes about rock n’ roll, who just on his own was so bugged out about how no one was paying attention to R. Kelly.

SLA: The #MuteRKelly campaign is really the driver behind this push for accountability, this incarceration, without which I don’t believe this would’ve occurred. It took a certain amount of critical mass to come together. They had built a groundwork and a framework for the campaign in the years preceding the #MeToo era. So when #MeToo exploded in 2017, it just facilitated his downfall, so to speak, because there was such a tremendous body of work, of evidence that had been collected and been disseminated for at least three years, I think. So, I believe that is a large part of why this has happened.

In addition, our views around sexual harm have evolved. And even now when someone is now “legal,” [i.e. age 18+] that is no longer seen as a shield against allegations or recognition of predatory behavior. So, for example, you could see an 18-year-old in a consensual – “consensual” – relationship with a 45-year-old and people don’t respond the same. People will call that out and note the disparities in power between the two parties. And I think that’s a big part of it. There is a very slow shift that’s going on in online discourse and I think that’s very healthy. I think another reason why change is happening is because many of the barriers that existed before such as all-powerful public relations agencies and representatives for some celebrities are no longer as effective because social media has had a democratizing effect upon those who recognize harm is occurring.

OO: I think so much has changed within our society. The way we talk about sexual abuse, the way we think about rape. The way we now have vocabulary around grooming. The way that we understand consent. The way that we talk about adulthood and childhood are different than when these allegations first came out thirty years ago. So, I think we are in a place now, to really reckon with all the things that he’s been doing. I think the time that it came out, the idea of these rampant groupies I guess a very dominant idea. We did not think about women’s bodies in the same way. We really thought about women’s bodies as the spoils of war for rich and famous men.

KB: Because they were Black girls and we didn’t give a damn. Even in the space of defending Blackness against white supremacy, that Blackness is Black masculinity. It is not Black femininity. We look at rates that over 60% of Black girls are going to be a survivor of sexual assault before her 18th birthday. Sexual violence as a practice tends to be intraracial.

Kenyette BarnesPhoto courtesy of Kenyette Barnes

xoNecole: Even with the conviction of R. Kelly which has been a long, long time coming, the culture that created him and allowed him to thrive still exists. What do you think it’ll take to finally dismantle rape culture within the music industry and writ large?

TB: This is the magic question. I think we have to have a huge culture shift and I think it has to happen from multiple directions. The example I use all the time is cigarettes. A little over thirty years ago, we could smoke on airplanes. Most people under a particular age don’t remember that. I remember when you could smoke on airplanes, in clubs – everywhere. And that’s how I grew up. Sitting in the back of my father’s car with the windows closed and he was smoking a cigarette. Then there was a huge concerted effort to shift how we thought about smoking cigarettes. And it’s obviously a very different paradigm, but the reason that I use it is because when I think about how they came at that, it was political, because laws had to change that said you can’t smoke in public places. It was a public narrative. We had major campaigns but also you don’t see the Marlboro Man anymore. Cigarette smoking was cool because everybody did it everywhere. It was a part of the culture that was just sort of ingrained. The way that rape culture is so ingrained that it's natural to us. So there was a political intervention, there was a cultural narrative intervention. There was a research intervention. All of a sudden there was all this research on how second-hand kills. Obviously, people still smoke now. But the culture around smoking today and the culture around smoking thirty years ago are completely different. I think about shifting rape culture the same way. We need multiple interventions.

SLA: Going back to what dream said, I think that there needs to be a space in our society where people can actually acknowledge the harm that they’ve caused in a way that’s not going to be met with highly punitive measures. We have to look at the ways in which sexual harm is fostered. It happens everywhere, the music industry is an easy scapegoat. I honestly don’t have an answer if I knew what it would take I would be extremely wealthy. I don’t have the answers, I have some ideas but everything is connected to something else. I’m a huge advocate for restorative justice and our existing system just doesn’t work when it comes to facilitating some kind of redress, for harm period, but particularly for sexual harm. As dream had said, because Robert refuses to take responsibility, it doesn’t even open the door to any type of restorative action. But also, I don’t want to forget that we can posit about restorative justice and restorative practices and how I think that would be an appropriate way to proceed, but the people whose voices matter and who's going to drive restorative justice are his survivors. So if his survivors don’t want that to occur, I can’t offer that as a unilateral response that’s going to address things. Some might want to see him incarcerated. That’s their choice. I’m not going to shame them for it.

KB: I think what #MuteRKelly did was a direct attack at the music industry. And it was one of the first campaigns that really directly targeted the sexual oppression of Black women and girls. I think we’re going to have to continue those conversations. I think we’re going to have a call-in of the entertainment industry. We saw people like John Legend and Chance the Rapper really speak against this, but we need more.

If you have experienced sexual violence and are in need of crisis support, please call the RAINN Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).

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sabaku-no-rozu · 2 years

Text

Intimate Accidents, part 2

Rating: Explicit, it’s still porn.

Pairing: Gaara/Rozu, RoGaa

Tags: masturbation, fantasizing, voyeursism, wet dreams

Summary: after walking in on an intimate moment, Gaara faces a new dilemma.

Intimate accidents 2

Sounds of panting moans, squeaking bed, and wet slapping filled Gaara’s bedroom. The two of them held their bodies as close to each other as they could despite the heat and sweat pouring off of them. Gaara rocked his hips up into Rozu’s, earning a moan of his name from her lips into his neck. Gaara whispered her name back and gentry tugged her hair so she would look at him.

“Rozu,” he sighed. Rozu’s heavily lidded eyes met Gaara’s, trying hard to focus on him as she bounced on his lap.

Rozu’s mouth parted and her tongue hung out wantonly. She was an image of pure bliss in this moment. “Hah, hah… Lord Gaara…” she panted. Gaara captured her lips with his own and swallowed her moans in a heated kiss. He grabbed at her hips and ground her down as deeply as she could go on his cock.

“Rozu, you’re gonna make me—“

“Lord Kazekage!!”

Gaara’s eyes shot open. The sensations he felt before were suddenly gone. Rozu was no longer in his arms, but now at the other side of his door, knocking impatiently. He was drenched in sweat. He took inventory a moment, then sat straight up.

At some point after his degenerate wank session, he fell asleep, and had wet dreams about his companion all night.

The damp spot on the covers over his groin area proved that enough.

On top of that, not only did he have a hot dream, he actually fell asleep without trying for the first time in several weeks.

A louder set of knocking disrupted his thoughts. Gaara threw the messy sheets and blankets aside to the hamper to wash later, then quickly put on a silky red bathrobe.

Gaara approached his bedroom door and opened it to see Rozu’s stern face right at the forefront. She was dressed up in her usual bodysuit, with a layer of casual clothing over it to cover up a bit; a semi unbuttoned gray top and a long red, slanted skirt.

“Lord Gaara,” she huffed at him, making him look back up at her face. Gaara hadn’t realized he had looked her up and down just now. “You aren’t ready? What’s up with you?”

Gaara furrowed his brow, confused. “Good morning?” He said. He avoided direct eye contact with Rozu, still reeling from his earlier feelings. “Ready for what exactly?”

Rozu’s eyebrows nearly shot off of her forehead. She crossed her arms, an incredulous expression on her face. “Uh, we’re taking the train to Kumo today for this quarter’s Summit?”

Gaara blinked, then paled. Fuck.

Rozu sighed and reached a hand out to touch Gaara’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s really unlike you to forget something so important.”

Gaara grabbed her wrist swiftly before Rozu could lay a hand on him. She gasped in surprise and pulled her hand back, a series of emotions flashing through her features.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked quietly.

Gaara’s face reddened, a conflicting feeling rose up in his chest. Of course he didn’t have a nightmare, but the fact that Rozu was so concerned with his well being when he wasn’t being particularly nice at the moment was making him feel a little mushy.

He couldn’t tell her that, though.

“Yes,” Gaara lied, after a beat of silence. “I tried to fall asleep last night after getting home. Unfortunately, my mind decided otherwise.”

Rozu sighed through her nose, then turned toward the main room. “I’m sorry, Lord Gaara,” she said, “I wish I could do something to help. You know you can talk to me about anything. My door is always open, you know.”

Gaara reeled for a second at that last comment, then quickly regained his composure.

“Anyway,” Rozu continued, “I’ll make us something to eat before we head to the train, okay? We’ve got a long couple of days ahead.”

As Rozu made her way to the penthouse kitchen, Gaara assured her that he would be dressed and ready to go soon. He saw her packed duffel bag out of the corner of his eye by the hallway corner.

Gaara swallowed thickly, then turned back to his chambers to get ready to go.

The Thunder Train ride to Kumogakure felt much longer than it needed to be. Normally in times like this Gaara would be relieved to have Rozu by his side, but right now he would give anything to have some space.

She sat across from Gaara and Kankuro the whole ride, looking out the window at the passing scenery and occasionally closing her eyes to meditate and sense for any unsavory stowaways.

Gaara had done his best not to engage her too frequently today, which Kankuro immediately noticed and asked him about. Rozu, attempting to be helpful, told Kankuro that Gaara had a nightmare, which is probably why he’s not in a great mood.

Sure, Gaara went with it. He hated to lie to his friend and his brother, but there was no chance in Hell he would tell them the real reason he was like this right now.

He couldn’t help during the ride but to look Rozu over. She sat with one leg over the other and both arms outspread on the seats behind her. She seemed so relaxed and collected, so unaware of the horrible things Gaara was thinking about doing to her. She even flashed him a reassuring smile a few times when she caught him looking, which made him feel so much worse.

Arrival at Kumogakure was a welcome relief, as the Kazekage entourage would finally get some time for themselves in their own guest lodgings. Rozu took the lead at Gaara’s front left side as they were escorted to the Raikage’s tower, ready to fend off threats and paparazzi alike. Kankuro had taken the opposite side behind Gaara.

Kankuro noticed Gaara’s strange behavior right away, especially when he spotted Gaara’s eyes looking in a certain direction.

Oh boy, this was gonna be a fun couple of days.

“Alright, here are your quarters for the evening!” Said a sprightly young kunoichi, handing over the room keys to Gaara

Kankuro had split off from the group when he was given his room key, excited to relax after a long train ride, leaving Rozu and Gaara alone together.

Gaara opened the door to the room, then realized something was off. “Excuse me miss,” he said as he turned toward the leaving kunoichi, “there seems to have been a mistake.”

He looked between a confused Rozu and the nervous Kumo nin. “There is only one bed…”

The ninja waived her hand in apology. “I’m sorry, the other rooms are under renovation right now, so this is all we had.” She said.

“This is fine,” Rozu interjected. Gaara looked at her, puzzled and a bit shocked. How can she be so comfortable with this? “It’ll be easier to perform my duties for Lord Gaara this way anyway.”

The young ninja bowed her head at the two respectfully before dismissing herself.

Rozu picked up her duffel bag and tossed it into the room before she grabbed Gaara’s to do the same. She paused and noted the distant look on his face.

“Hey, Gaara?” She said quietly, dropping the honorific, which caught his attention. He looked down as her gaze as if he just snapped back from a day dream. “If me being in the room is gonna bother you, I can post outside if it helps? You said you had a nightmare earlier so I want you to get rest—“

“No, that’s—“ Gaara interrupted. He broke his gaze away from Rozu and took his luggage out of her hand to put it into the room himself. Rozu wore a confused expression as she looked at his back. “You’re right, it will be easier to watch for any incoming threats if we are boarded together for the time being.” He paused a moment, then turned to face her again. “You are not troubling me at all, please do not think so. I will do my best to be in a better mood.”

Rozu crossed her arms and leaned on the door frame, still looking at Gaara with her brow raised. “If you say so.”

Once the trip had been settled in, it was time to start the first half of the summit. It wasn’t as big a deal as the five Kage summit, just a quarterly check in to discuss inter village planning and other diplomatic nonsense.

Rozu and Kankuro found it as boring as ever. Rozu especially, since most of her job there was to keep alert and keep quiet. Kankuro could chime in ever now and then, being that he had Big Brother privileges. Rozu was just a bodyguard, after all.

However, the particular duties of the Kazekage’s personal bodyguard were a bit different than normal, and required a special skill set.

One of those skills being the ability to read people.

Rozu could tell from the get go that something about Gaara was very, very different. He had been acting weird since the early morning they had departed, throughout the entire train ride to Kumo, then the business with the bed room.

She knew normally Gaara wouldn’t even really care about something like sharing a room, especially since it was with her. He should feel protected, if anything. She always felt how relaxed he was around her.

Except for today.

Rozu sat across from Gaara, her legs crossed one over the other as she observed the board room. She watched his face and body language as he spoke and noticed he tensed up ever so slightly when passing eye contact over her.

Why? she thought, what are you hiding, sand boy?

Gaara met her gaze again as she stared intensely at him. She felt their eyes lock for just a second, but a second was long enough. She flashed him a reassuring smile before she quickly shifted her sitting position with a deliberate switch of one leg over the other. The briefest flash of flesh passed Gaara’s vision as she did so.

Rozu saw the minute shift in body language the moment she did that, and she instantly figured it out.

Gaara was hiding something for sure, and it definitely had to do with her, and she was going to find out one way or another.

#sabaku no gaara #sabaku no rozu #gaara x oc #self insert oc #fan fic #smut #intimate accidents 2 #I’m leaving this on a cliffhanger because I’m an asshole hehe

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