#Blast mitigation design

[dsp-consultants]

Blast Mitigation Design: Ensuring Structural Resilience in Saudi Arabia

In today’s rapidly evolving built environment, safeguarding infrastructure against explosive threats is a critical priority. Blast mitigation design plays a crucial role in ensuring the safety of buildings, occupants, and surrounding environments. At DSP Consultants, we specialize in providing comprehensive blast analysis reports tailored to the unique requirements of our clients in Saudi Arabia. Our meticulous approach integrates structural engineering, advanced modeling, and expert risk assessment to deliver resilient and effective blast mitigation solutions.

Key Steps in Blast Mitigation Design

1. Defining the Scope of the Project

Every project has specific objectives that dictate the blast mitigation design. To ensure optimal protection, we establish key specifications such as:

Type of structure involved (commercial, residential, industrial, or critical infrastructure)

Level of protection required based on the risk assessment

Type and quantity of occupants in the building

The surrounding environment and potential external risks

2. Threat and Risk Assessment

Identifying potential threats is the foundation of an effective blast mitigation strategy. Our expert team conducts in-depth assessments that consider:

The type of explosion (accidental or intentional)

The location of the explosion relative to the structure

Possible causes of the explosion, such as industrial accidents or terrorist threats

3. Site Visit and Structural Assessment

A thorough understanding of the existing structural integrity is crucial. Our consultants conduct site surveys to analyze the behavior of structures under blast conditions, including:

Evaluating the impact of blast loads on the structure

Identifying structural weak points that require reinforcement

Determining the material composition of the building to assess vulnerability

4. Blast Load Categorization and Analysis

Using state-of-the-art simulation software, we model various blast explosion scenarios to predict their impact. This enables us to design effective mitigation measures by:

Establishing design-based threats that align with real-world risks

Creating 2D and 3D structural models to analyze blast wave effects

Determining critical factors such as pressure, impulse, and duration of the blast impact

Delivering Cutting-Edge Blast Mitigation Solutions in Saudi Arabia

DSP Consultants employs cutting-edge technology and engineering expertise to develop customized blast mitigation designs. Our approach ensures that buildings meet international safety standards while maintaining functional and aesthetic integrity. By integrating advanced structural analysis, we provide tailored solutions that enhance the resilience of infrastructure against potential blast threats.

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For expert consultation on blast mitigation design, contact DSP Consultants today and ensure your infrastructure is built to withstand future challenges.

[mystery-salad]

Commander Quaille (mirror pronouns)

The version of tyria Quaille exists in is one where the dragons dying is a far more immediate drawback than usual. The magical blast that gets sent out is volatile, equivalent to a bomb that increases in severity with more magic that's bottled up. Each kill leaves a fallout zone saturated so heavily with that dragons elemental magic that it's uninhabitable for generations. Just breathing the air could earn anyone lasting effects and a minor infection that could grow worse enough to turn you into a minion if not tended to.

Being at ground zero during an elder dragons death is almost certain death for any civilians and soldiers. As such, after Zhaitan the method has become clearing the area completely once the dragon is weak, and leaving only the Commander within the blast zone to finish the job. Only one person need shoulder this burden.

As such, Quaille has acquired a medically frightening number of comorbidities both clinging to life and trying to kill it:

- Zhaitans magic seeped deep into its heart, infecting its bloodstream and its blood cells cycling through life and death. Quaille has very badly thinned blood, and transfusions are a frequent necessity.

- Mordremoth had the pleasure of being directly up in Quailles face when it killed Trahearne to end the dragon. Spored seeped into its mouth and down to its lungs, growing from inside and hindering its breathing greatly. Quaille wears a respirator at all times that's been specially designed for it.

- Kralkatorrik shook Quaille to its bones, and took root there. Crystals both reinforce yet crack through what should remain solid, leaving it a mess of crackling as it moves.

- Jormag and Primordus hit together, the heat taking its seat deep in Quailles guts while the chill clung to its extremities. Fingers, toes, and ears have dulled and numbed senses. Its breath comes out as a puff of steam from the warm ache in its stomach.

- At the same time as all these things ravage Quailles body, the radiating magic that is seated deep withing Quaille also strengthens and essentially bass-boosts the asuras capabilities, keeping it going. As does Aurene.

- Then enter the void. Something that corrupts and consumes and warps magic. This nearly did Quaille in, shredding away all the capabilities Quaille had gained and leaving what should be a fatally ravaged body. With Aurenes very careful help, it managed to win still. And Soo Wons death forced the magic back into Quailles body with such immense suddenness that it was left in shock.

- Soo Won, for her part, tried to mitigate her own damage. The destruction of the void had already done immense damage to the jade sea and Cantha. She said her farewells, and left with aurene to die far enough from any living beings. Aurene returned to tell Quaille once it was over.

It was...more peaceful than anyone expected, after everything.

[lukedanger]

I made a previous post calling out how Regill's spiel against Irabeth was complete nonsense, and two things were brought up in reblogs: wondering what achievements the Hellknights have to their names without the Knight-Commander or crusaders helping them, and interest in looking at their tactics further.

To summarize the first one: as far as I am aware, the only achievement the Hellknights make on their own is taking that outpost near the Gloomy Gorge, which was described as an abandoned ruin. Everything else they succeed at - even escaping from the Lost Chapel - is either done with the Knight-Commander or with the help of other crusaders like Sosiel. And even then, sometimes with the KC's help they're counter-productive, not to mention hypocrisy that I didn't realize until digging through my screenshots for this.

So, let's actually go down what the Hellknights contribute. I will be focusing specifically on Act II as this is where the "Hellknights are uber competent" nonsense is at full blast.

This is a long post, so the most of it will be under a 'Read More' for the sake of scrolling. TLDR, the Hellknights aren't actually that useful, especially when looking at these four sections:

The Siege of Drezen - Another Way In?

Leper's Smile - Vescavor Fodder

Lost Chapel - Hypocritical Murder is the Best Dumbest Solution

Reliable Redoubt - Regill's Folly

===

The Siege of Drezen - Another Way In?

During the Siege of Drezen at the climax of Act II, if you saved him at the Reliable Redoubt, Regill offers another way into the city to target the giants manning the artillery. He wants the Knight-Commander to accompany him in taking out the artillery to clear the way for the rest of the army, just in case they run into a mythic demon again. And to be entirely fair, on paper and as presented this is an entirely reasonable recommendation! Taking out the artillery quickly is a good way to mitigate casualties, and this is exactly the kind of task that the Knight-Commander and their lance is best at doing. Leper's Smile was overcome exactly through this tactic.

However, in practice... what it actually does is let you skip one skill check to get to past the first gate (crossing the gap to the barracks) or the dungeon path that Nurah could send you down (which you probably want to go down anyways to recruit Arueshalae). Otherwise, you still have to either skill check your way up the walls or fight through the cathedral... and you probably want to clear those anyways just for the loot and XP.

All while costing you morale if you don't have Galfrey and Irabeth to provide leadership to the main army, and locking you to hauling Regill around the entire siege. Quite frankly, I'd rather have Seelah and her noble steed Iomeneigh.

Either way, Regill's "big tactic" at Drezen is basically a wash, all things considered. It lets you skip one skill check at a potentially very high cost, a cost that Regill sneers at not understanding the value of morale in a siege assault. While some of this could be chalked up to level design not lining up with the narrative (would not be the first time - take a look at the stats of units in Crusade Mode), I can't help but wonder if Regill was hoping to swipe a lot of credit for the liberation of Drezen with this.

And this is the most positive contribution the Hellknights offer to the campaign.

===

Leper's Smile - Vescavor Fodder

Leper's Smile is the first 'big' challenge that you face, by this point having either abandoned the Hellknights to their fate or taken the time to rescue them. Faced with the challenge, you need a unit to act as bait to pull the swarm out so the Knight-Commander can take a lance and drive it through the Vescavor Queen's thorax. You get five options of who to pick, the best being Sosiel where his troops hold their ground so he can quickly heal anyone who is overwhelmed - otherwise anyone who scatters too far can't be healed in time.

To focus on the Hellknights, first of all we should remember why Regill is volunteering his forces: "My superiority over the crusaders will not permit me to cower behind them."

Yep. Mister "emotions are a useless distraction" himself wants to feed his own men to vescavors because his ego won't let him allow others to do it. And if they hold their ground, this gets a lot of Hellknights killed. Better them than crusaders, but that's the kind of thing that you expect out of a gentleman officer in Sharpe, not someone who prides himself on pragmatism. His alternative tactic is actually pretty sound - his best protected troops draw aggro, then the rest of the Hellknights hurl acid and fire into the swarm. It costs him some of his best troops, though. Even adamantine doesn't make you invulnerable, whether it's to a vesvacor who gets through one poor sod's visor, or the acid hurled at them.

Either way though, Regill is specifically putting his own troops forward without any of the support that could open up other options because his ego won't allow him to stay behind while others distract the swarm.

The grand irony? The "ideal" solution in this situation is probably to have Sosiel's contingent consist of Hellknights: the Hellknights are a disciplined force who are most likely to hold their nerve and among the most well-armored of the troops on hand. That heavy protection and discipline would merge with Shelyn's miracle through Sosiel to completely minimize casualties - even more so than Sosiel alone and a KC who doesn't delay going after the queen.

Then again, the Hellknights will throw away a perfectly fine Armiger if they can't actually make it to Hellknight, wasting all the resources that went into their training and losing a competent warrior or spellcaster in the process. Why are we surprised?

===

Lost Chapel - Hypocritical Murder is the Best Dumbest Solution

So first of all, the Hellknights get more or less completely captured during this. Even though they presumably would have had their own men on watch due to not considering the crusaders competent. Now, the Hellknights do manage to break out on their own, but they are far from the only ones - other crusaders are able to as well such as one Iomedean paladin who CPEs an entire squad of ghouls or the guy who might lose more than his tooth you can rescue along the way.

Of course, we inevitably meet Yaker at a mixed lance of Armigers and Crusaders, and after some bantering if you comment on the fight in the Hellknights, Yaker will want to execute one of the Mendevan soldiers for panicking. The dialogue in the fight prior does show the Mendevan men-at-arms are at the breaking point, but none of them actually flee the engagement despite escape being the primary goal at the time. And Yaker wants to execute them because Chelaxian law demands an example be made of those who flee when none of them actually have.

Forget the fact that it's somehow "Lawful" of the 'acceptable for a paladin' variety to murder a Mendevan under Chelaxian law while in territory where Mendevan law has jurisdiction. We're trying to rescue as many soldiers as possible, and you want to execute one for being at the end of their rope and about to panic but not actually running away? And yes, doing this will increase your casualty counter for the entire sequence, potentially costing you quite a few soldiers in a portion of the game where they're hard to get!

It's worth noting that this is after Regill had formed a rearguard further up the mountain to buy time for troops to escape and await reinforcements. So not only do we have the above, Yaker is pissing away the objective here. Of course, Regill also claims he will always strive to preserve allied forces, but we've already seen how much of a lie that is at Reliable Redoubt and Leper's Smile... can't believe I missed this line in my first playthrough.

Funnily enough, Regill also makes a lot of noise about how the standing orders for scouts is to not be taken alive and that it was better to kill the wounded than let them be taken even though he had no idea why the gargoyles wanted prisoners. The only Hellknight who chose to die was Marenta, the Armiger who had Trever's shield. Even then, she was acting as a rearguard to allow allies to escape after breaking out of captivity. So much for "never allow yourself to be taken alive" and "deny the enemy prisoners".

(Thank you @forestdragoncat for pointing that out in your reply to my other post!)

===

Reliable Redoubt - Regill's Folly

I could honestly do an entire post dissecting this for how much of a complete failure it is on part of the Hellknights at every level even as the narrative tries to convince us it was cold, ruthless rationality. In the interest of not dissecting the sequence line by line here, I think there's five points that really sum it up well:

The gargoyles specifically went after the supplies of the Sunrise Sword knights in the earlier engagement, retreating once they had completed that objective. The gargoyles didn't even bother with this kind of harassment against the Hellknights: they just overwhelmed them. And that's with them being reinforced by the now-exhausted Sunrise Sword!

Regill had full warning that the gargoyles were coming thanks to the Sunrise Sword, the Sunrise Sword didn't and were ambushed. Yet Regill's troops still had their asses hanging in an undefendable position that they then retreat from to a more defensible location rather than having prepared for the attack.

Even knowing another attack was coming, he gave the Sunrise Sword no supplies and did nothing to bring them back up to full combat effectiveness in anticipation of the attack. This wasted not only the warning they gave but troops he actually thinks had potential! This is the same Hellknight who later says that he will "always preserve the lives of allied forces" because he is thinking in terms of "efficiency and achieving your goals".

The only way the Hellknights win the encounter is if the Knight-Commander diverts the entire campaign to take Drezen to save them. Without that, the Hellknights are crushed. And the Knight-Commander only knows because Yaker disobeyed orders and fled the battlefield... the exact thing he says warrants execution in Lost Chapel.

On top of that, Regill had others killed to stop them from being taken prisoner despite explicitly admitting he doesn't know why the gargoyles wanted them. He and a number of his troops are quite alive should you not reinforce him and find him in Lost Chapel on the hook next to Irabeth.

In short, Regill had every opportunity to put together a better defense thanks to the Sunrise Sword's efforts getting to him, and he pissed it away. I'm not going to say that he could have won the battle outright without the KC, but at close examination it becomes clear that he had failed beyond "competent but up against something where that isn't enough". And then has the audacity once the battle is won to act as if it was the Sunrise Sword who were weak for their "excess of morality" and needed to be remade into Hellknights.

I wonder if Regill realized in his Reckoning after the Reliable Redoubt that he had fucked up and that's why he's so eager to prove himself at Leper's Smile - to hide his folly from his superiors and his new comrades.

===

In the final tally... in Act II, for all the Hellknights acts superior and say they have to teach the Crusaders everything, they either don't contribute much, are outright counterproductive, or they only succeed because the Knight-Commander bails them out. Regill's suggestions in particular tend to be only "better than the default options", and even then not by much.

At least in the councils he gets his act together and starts making some good suggestions, or at least pragmatic ones if ruthless... along with the expected bad suggestions.

Either way actually digging into this makes the sheer hypocrisy of the Hellknights in Wrath of the Righteous come out even more. And I can't tell if this was intended as a subtle criticism of Lawful Evil that a lot of people - myself included - missed because of how much is going on, or if they had genuinely wanted to write the Hellknights as competent Lawful Evil and ended up making them only good at looking like they were competent for making "hard" decisions.

And the sad thing is? Even with all this, Regill is a fascinating character because he actually seems to believe in what he says for the most part - a few exceptions regarding allied forces aside. He's a different kind of Lawful Evil than the usual corruption of Hell as we see in Aeon->Devil, and that contrast would work really well if they leaned into that more.

[askanautistic]

How do I deal with running out of spoons during school?

Try to figure out what things drain you. If you know what things are draining your energy, you might be able to find ways to avoid those issues, or ways to mitigate them. And think about the things that affect you more when you're drained, and what things might then help you when you're drained.

This might involve doing things yourself: - using earplugs to block out sound if the environment is too noisy or your overloaded and need extra quiet. - taking your breaks in quiet spaces to recharge (even preemptively if you tend to get drained quite often - on days you feel okay it might still be good to take some quiet time away from everyone). - having some sensory items on you that might soothe or recharge you. - having snacks or drinks that might give you a boost when needed. - finding clothes that are close enough to school uniform (if your school has a school uniform) that no one would reprimand you, but that are comfortable to be in all day. - creating playlists on your phone (music that helps relax you, another with music that gives you a mood/energy boost, maybe even another that helps if you're feeling angry and need to blast something heavier/angrier to help 'vent').

OR it might involve asking for reasonable adjustments: - being able to take breaks when needed even during class time (if not all the time you might be allowed a pass or two per day, or a break at a specific time if you find you tend to run out of energy at a certain time of day, or that certain lessons are harder to cope with). - a designated quiet space for break times and to eat your lunch in (or to go if you need a break from class). - access to items or activities that might give you a little energy boost or help you to focus, or a space you can move around in to re-energise if that would help you. - being able to choose the optimal place in class for you to be able to focus/avoid having too much light in your eye-line or being away from heaters or draughty windows depending on your particular sensory needs. - if there are things you aren't allowed without permission, ensuring you are allowed to wear sunglasses or use earplugs as and when needed during the day. If you aren't allowed your phone at school, it might mean you being allowed yours, or at being allowed access to it some of the time. - being allowed to wear things that aren't quite the usual uniform standard.

If you find any of my posts helpful, please consider tipping.

[mariacallous]

Microsoft raced to put generative AI at the heart of its systems. Ask a question about an upcoming meeting and the company’s Copilot AI system can pull answers from your emails, Teams chats, and files—a potential productivity boon. But these exact processes can also be abused by hackers.

Today at the Black Hat security conference in Las Vegas, researcher Michael Bargury is demonstrating five proof-of-concept ways that Copilot, which runs on its Microsoft 365 apps, such as Word, can be manipulated by malicious attackers, including using it to provide false references to files, exfiltrate some private data, and dodge Microsoft’s security protections.

One of the most alarming displays, arguably, is Bargury’s ability to turn the AI into an automatic spear-phishing machine. Dubbed LOLCopilot, the red-teaming code Bargury created can—crucially, once a hacker has access to someone’s work email—use Copilot to see who you email regularly, draft a message mimicking your writing style (including emoji use), and send a personalized blast that can include a malicious link or attached malware.

“I can do this with everyone you have ever spoken to, and I can send hundreds of emails on your behalf,” says Bargury, the cofounder and CTO of security company Zenity, who published his findings alongside videos showing how Copilot could be abused. “A hacker would spend days crafting the right email to get you to click on it, but they can generate hundreds of these emails in a few minutes.”

That demonstration, as with other attacks created by Bargury, broadly works by using the large language model (LLM) as designed: typing written questions to access data the AI can retrieve. However, it can produce malicious results by including additional data or instructions to perform certain actions. The research highlights some of the challenges of connecting AI systems to corporate data and what can happen when “untrusted” outside data is thrown into the mix—particularly when the AI answers with what could look like legitimate results.

Among the other attacks created by Bargury is a demonstration of how a hacker—who, again, must already have hijacked an email account—can gain access to sensitive information, such as people’s salaries, without triggering Microsoft’s protections for sensitive files. When asking for the data, Bargury’s prompt demands the system does not provide references to the files data is taken from. “A bit of bullying does help,” Bargury says.

In other instances, he shows how an attacker—who doesn’t have access to email accounts but poisons the AI’s database by sending it a malicious email—can manipulate answers about banking information to provide their own bank details. “Every time you give AI access to data, that is a way for an attacker to get in,” Bargury says.

Another demo shows how an external hacker could get some limited information about whether an upcoming company earnings call will be good or bad, while the final instance, Bargury says, turns Copilot into a “malicious insider” by providing users with links to phishing websites.

Phillip Misner, head of AI incident detection and response at Microsoft, says the company appreciates Bargury identifying the vulnerability and says it has been working with him to assess the findings. “The risks of post-compromise abuse of AI are similar to other post-compromise techniques,” Misner says. “Security prevention and monitoring across environments and identities help mitigate or stop such behaviors.”

As generative AI systems, such as OpenAI’s ChatGPT, Microsoft’s Copilot, and Google’s Gemini, have developed in the past two years, they’ve moved onto a trajectory where they may eventually be completing tasks for people, like booking meetings or online shopping. However, security researchers have consistently highlighted that allowing external data into AI systems, such as through emails or accessing content from websites, creates security risks through indirect prompt injection and poisoning attacks.

“I think it’s not that well understood how much more effective an attacker can actually become now,” says Johann Rehberger, a security researcher and red team director, who has extensively demonstrated security weaknesses in AI systems. “What we have to be worried [about] now is actually what is the LLM producing and sending out to the user.”

Bargury says Microsoft has put a lot of effort into protecting its Copilot system from prompt injection attacks, but he says he found ways to exploit it by unraveling how the system is built. This included extracting the internal system prompt, he says, and working out how it can access enterprise resources and the techniques it uses to do so. “You talk to Copilot and it’s a limited conversation, because Microsoft has put a lot of controls,” he says. “But once you use a few magic words, it opens up and you can do whatever you want.”

Rehberger broadly warns that some data issues are linked to the long-standing problem of companies allowing too many employees access to files and not properly setting access permissions across their organizations. “Now imagine you put Copilot on top of that problem,” Rehberger says. He says he has used AI systems to search for common passwords, such as Password123, and it has returned results from within companies.

Both Rehberger and Bargury say there needs to be more focus on monitoring what an AI produces and sends out to a user. “The risk is about how AI interacts with your environment, how it interacts with your data, how it performs operations on your behalf,” Bargury says. “You need to figure out what the AI agent does on a user's behalf. And does that make sense with what the user actually asked for.”

[betterbemeta]

I love you Transformers, but even SD Gundam Force has a depiction of an APS (active protection system) in it. I'm talking about the specialized guns on certain tanks, military trucks, and ships that detect missiles and destroy them at a distance (hard-kill system), and about flares or laser systems that confuse heat-seeking missiles (soft-kill system.)

In real life, missiles are super destructive. they don't dramatically miss when fired at point blank so protagonists can leap away from explosions.

There's air to surface missiles, surface to air missiles, air to air missiles, surface to surface missiles, it's pretty much missiles all around. Some can pierce tanks easily, to the point where reactive tank armor is designed to explode with an opposite force when struck, negating some of the blast.

It's not WWI okay, modern air dogfights are some guy firing missiles at you and it's not like TV where you Dodge the Missiles. Air superiority planes have laser dazzlers and flares because infrared guidance systems are very sophisticated nowadays. Like, what do you think 'stealth aircraft' is about? Modern ordinance is so effective that the first 'defense' is not being detected or the other guy not being able to get a lock. If it's fired at all it's going to destroy something (expensive) unless it's disabled.

I understand that action shows and movies-- Transformers being one example-- do not want to depict a default lethality. Death happens to mooks, or when it's time for a Main Character to redeem their audience investment. But at this point the IP Movie Phenomenon has gone on so long and made so much money it can't help but ask adult audiences to be taken seriously.

At best most media that features 'armed conflict' is stuck in a pre-modern mindset because the current reality is depressing. It's not heroic for all sides to have 'prevent resistance or mitigation of your violent enforcement' as their M.O. Ordinary people relate to Sword Fights and Survival because we all need to use willpower every day to confront challenges in our world. But this is not that.

I could barely make it through half of the first bayverse transformers movie when I watched it recently for the normal reasons (misanthropy, misogyny, mis-everything) but given how much money the US military spent on this movie??? almost all of it is bullshit that completely ignores what the featured equipment is even FOR. The Military being Sexy but Useless IS propaganda: the public awareness is of the glamor shots, and not of the purpose or effectiveness of ganking everything with missiles.

I'm not asking for Starscream to obliterate the protagonists of a tv show with hellfire missiles that he copied. That would be boring. And I'm not asking movies or shows that are To Sell Toys to educate children on the murderous nature of war, or starting any kind of Discourse. It just amazes me that so much stuff that features Military Technology is totally disinterested in it.

[beardedmrbean]

Authorities in Sydney are investigating whether explosives discovered in a caravan were intended for an antisemitic attack.

The explosives could have caused a 40-metre-wide blast and "significant damage," police said on Wednesday, adding that the threat was contained.

A note was found in the caravan that displayed antisemitic messages, investigators said.

"This is the discovery of a potential mass casualty event," New South Wales Premier Chris Minns said.

New South Wales Police Deputy Commissioner David Hudson told a news conference that the caravan was discovered on 19 January in Dural, a suburb of north-west Sydney.

The investigation became public on Wednesday after details of it were leaked to the media.

There was "some indication that the explosives might be used in some form of antisemitic attack," Mr Hudson said, but he wouldn't be drawn on the possible target.

He said officers had "mitigated the risk as much as possible" but stressed: "I'm not saying it's been eliminated. I'm saying it's been mitigated."

"That's one of the reasons we're talking today, for members of the public to be vigilant in relation to what they see and what they hear in relation to antisemitism in our community."

An investigation involving the Australian Federal Police (AFP) has been launched.

Prime Minister Anthony Albaneseposted a statement on X saying that "hate and extremism have no place in Australian society".

He said that New South Wales Police had "people in custody" and was working with the AFP taskforce investigating antisemitic crimes called Special Operation Avalite.

Premier Chris Minns described the incident as "terrorism".

"This would strike terror into the community, particularly the Jewish community, and it must be met with the full resources of the government."

It has not yet been designated a terrorist incident, the premier confirmed.

The discovery follows a spate of antisemitic attacks in Australia in recent months.

In December, worshippers were forced to flee as Melbourne's Adass Israel synagogue was set on fire.

Earlier this month, a childcare centre in Sydney was set alight and sprayed with antisemitic graffiti.

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapters

I groaned as the sun cascaded through the window and I slipped out of bed. I expected to find Angel still passed out in the guest room but he’d already left. Made the bed and left a note on the beside table. 

Princesa

Writing notes is fucking stupid but I didn’t want to wake you up and this was better than a text message. So, fuck, I’m gonna figure my shit out. And yes, I’m a selfish fuck for asking for you to wait for me. I understand if you can’t but I’m still fucking asking. 

Angel

I ran my fingers over the ink, the faint indentations pressed into the paper as if he’d hesitated while writing. His words weren’t perfect—rough around the edges, just like him—but they were real.

He was asking me to wait.

Not because it was easy or because he wanted to string me along, but because something in him couldn’t let me go. Because in the middle of all his chaos and heartbreak, he still wanted me.

It wasn’t fair.

But as I sat there, holding that stupid note like it was something fragile, I knew the truth.

I shoved the note deep into the bottom of my purse like burying it could keep the emotions that came with it at bay. Then, I did what I always did when things got too heavy—I got to work.

The shop was quiet, just the way I wanted it. Stocking day meant I didn’t have to play dress-up, no designer clothes or carefully crafted persona. Just me, a playlist full of guilty pleasures, and a long list of inventory to check in.

Music blasted from the speakers, filling the empty space as I climbed onto the display case, belting out the soundtrack to Coyote Ugly like I was performing for a sold-out crowd. I moved with abandon, the weight of the last twenty-four hours melting away with each note.

At least, until I heard the slow clap of an unexpected audience.

I froze mid-move, my stomach dropping.

James T. Kirk—smartass, business partner, and certified pain in my ass—leaned casually against the doorway, amusement written all over his face.

“I didn’t think you’d be here until much later,” I said, hopping down from the counter, heat rushing to my face. “I was just… Fuck.”

He smirked, arms crossed as he took a step closer. “If this whole empire crumbles, at least you’ve got a solid backup plan.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, trying to regain my composure, pulling that familiar wall back up around me. But it was too late. It’s hard to pretend you’re a hard ass when you’ve just shaken your ass for someone like James T. Kirk, even if it was completely unintentional.

I cleared my throat and forced myself to act like nothing had happened. “You bring the new inventory?”

He leaned against the doorframe, still smirking like he knew exactly what I was trying to do—deflect, distract, pretend like I wasn’t dying a little inside. “The boys are already unloading it upstairs,” he said with a chuckle. “They’ll be disappointed they didn’t get to see your performance. But you’ll find everything’s in order.”

“Good,” I breathed out, trying to focus on something else, anything else. “If you could eliminate that from your talks with your board of directors, I’d appreciate it.”

James raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I’ll keep this secret for you, Ms. O’Shay.” He paused, his expression shifting slightly. “Though, there’s been some talk about a biker war up and down California. One that might interfere with business.”

I felt my stomach tighten. I knew this had to do with the payback that was happening because of Coco. Not for the kind of business I ran, at least. “What kind of interference are we talking about?” I asked, my voice steady, but my mind already racing.

“Could slow down supply,” he responded, “it’s being mitigated but customers can become nervous when things don’t arrive as planned. I understand your deal with Gilendo has dissolved.”

 “He’s missing,” I replied, “presumed dead. But I’m sure you already knew that.” 

“Gilendo isn’t dead,” he said, “he’ll be another piece to the puzzle soon enough.” 

I narrowed my eyes, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “What the hell does that mean?”

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a step closer, his posture casual but the underlying tension in the air thick. “What I mean is, Gilendo’s not gone for good. He’s just... missing in action for now. But don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. And when we do, he’ll be a very important piece to a much bigger picture.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implications I wasn’t ready to unpack. Missing or presumed dead, Gilendo was still a wild card I hadn’t fully written off. But if James was right—and he usually was—this situation had more moving parts than I realized. More dangers I hadn’t anticipated.

“Are you planning on playing puppet master with him when he shows up?” I asked, trying to stay calm, but the tension in my neck betrayed me.

“I don’t need to play anything,” he replied smoothly. “Gilendo’s just one cog in a much larger machine. But you can trust me, Ms. O’Shay—I have everything under control.”

“I hope so.” I wasn’t entirely sure I believed him, but it was hard to argue with his confidence.

He looked at me for a long moment, the smirk gone from his face, replaced by something colder, more calculating. “You might not have noticed it yet, but this... game you’re playing with me—it’s not just about business anymore. There’s more at stake than you realize.”

I crossed my arms, resisting the urge to take a step back. “I’m not playing games with you, James. I’m running a business. And I don’t plan on losing control of it.”

His gaze softened, but there was still that edge. “Good. Because if you lose control, it’s not just your business you’ll be losing.”

I didn't need to ask what that meant. The threat was clear enough.

I forced myself to stand tall, no matter how much my stomach churned. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

He gave me a long, assessing look before nodding, his smile returning in full force. “Just remember, Ms. O’Shay... you’re always one step away from being out of your depth. Don’t forget who has your back when that time comes.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned, walking away from him without looking back. But his words lingered in my mind, and the unease they stirred up was harder to shake off than I wanted to admit.

—---

I rolled through the scrapyard gates. I don’t know why I still came. I suppose it was to be with the guys. They had a big win today. I hoped that meant the war was at a standstill. If not completely over. And things would settle down again. 

 Bishop stood from his seat when I walked in, pulling out a chair for me to sit down. He looked at me, like I was there. Like he could really see me again. 

“Glad you came, querida,” he pressed his lips to temple and I took a seat at the table.  

“Everything go ok?” I asked. I knew better than to press further than that. 

“It went ok, took ‘em all out,” he said, “Lost Canche but no one else.” 

I nodded, I knew the strain that Bishop had with Canche, at least now some of that would settle. At the end of the day they were still brothers.  

I watched as Bishop sat back down, the weight of what he'd just said hanging in the air. His eyes had that familiar weariness, the kind that spoke of too many battles fought and too many losses carried. Even in the moments when everything seemed to settle, there was always something gnawing at the edges of it all.

“Canche was a good man,” I said quietly, not needing to elaborate. We both knew what kind of life he’d lived, the kind that came with an early end or a life forever marked by violence.

Bishop’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything for a while. I could tell there was a storm behind his eyes, something unresolved he wasn’t ready to talk about. He probably never would be, and that was fine.

“Thanks for coming, though,” he said, breaking the silence. “It’s good to see you here.” His voice was softer, almost hesitant. A tone I wasn’t used to from him, and it made me pause.

“I needed to,” I replied, not bothering to hide the truth. “If you’re going to carry all this weight, the least I can do is be here for you.”

“Don’t think it’s like that,” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

“I know it’s not. But it doesn’t hurt to remind you that you don’t have to do everything alone,” I said. I leaned back in my chair, watching him carefully, waiting for the walls he was so skilled at putting up to shift, even just a little.

He let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a deep drink from his bottle. His eyes flicked to mine, softer than before, but still full of the same pain that had been there for so long.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Nova,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like they were escaping from somewhere deep, somewhere that had been locked away for far too long.

I didn’t have an answer for that. I couldn’t. But I could be here, in this moment, sharing the silence and the weight of it all. Because, maybe for him, that was enough.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said simply, my hand resting over his on the table, a quiet gesture of support.

He nodded slowly, his hand giving mine a gentle squeeze before he pulled away, but the gesture spoke volumes.

We didn’t need to speak more. Not right now. Not when everything was so fragile. But we knew. We always had.

The silence was interrupted by Creeper leading his new girl into the clubhouse. 

Bishop draped his arm over the back of my chair as he looked up at her, “Who do we have the pleasure?”

“This is Kody,” Creeper said.

“Hello, Miss Kody,” Bishop said to her.

“Damn, ‘Miss Kody’? What am I a kindergarten teacher?” she laughed. “Fuck.”

The table laughed with her.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Bishop said. Dondo and Hank introduced themselves. 

“This here is Bishop’s ole lady,” Creeper looked at me then corrected himself, “his lady, Nova.”

“I train them well. Before I got here they were still beating their chests and throwing shit at the wall,” I offered her a smile, “Nice to meet you.” 

“I wondered why we stopped doing that,” Dondo chuckled. 

Kody grinned, her eyes flicking between the group as she took a seat. She had an energy about her, one that matched the rough-and-tumble vibe of the clubhouse but with a sharp edge. I could tell she didn’t take any shit, which, in a room like this, could either make you a target or an ally. I couldn’t tell which one she was just yet, but the fact that she wasn’t intimidated by the men around her spoke volumes.

“Training them well, huh?” she said, her voice low and laced with amusement. “Guess I’ll have to take notes.”

“You’re gonna need them,” I replied with a smirk, “These boys don’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

Dondo and Hank chuckled, obviously enjoying the banter. Creeper, who was standing behind Kody, just grinned, clearly proud of the girl he’d brought in.

“Don’t listen to her,” Creeper said, walking around the table to join us. “She’s got ‘em trained like lapdogs. I had to fight for my piece of the pie when I came in.”

“You should’ve seen the looks I got when I walked in,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Bishop was ready to throw down with half the club just to claim me.”

Bishop’s arm shifted on the back of my chair, his fingers grazing lightly against my neck as he shot me a half-smile. “Not wrong. Still might.”

The others laughed, and Kody leaned back in her chair, clearly taking in the dynamic of the room. “Well, looks like you’ve all got your shit sorted out.”

I caught the look on her face—a little guarded, a little curious. She wasn’t exactly eager to dive into the group’s dynamic just yet, but I could tell she wasn’t the type to be easily fooled by appearances.

“So, Kody,” I asked, trying to ease into the conversation. “What brings you to our lovely little corner of chaos?”

She cocked an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Same thing that brings everyone, right? A little trouble, a little excitement. Maybe I’ll stick around. Maybe I won’t.”

I liked her already. She wasn’t looking to make friends, but she wasn’t here to make enemies either. That made her dangerous in a way.

“Well,” I said, standing up and clinking my glass, “If you’re sticking around, you might as well know you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

Kody laughed again, her eyes glinting with something like challenge. “I can handle whatever you throw my way, sweetheart.”

And just like that, the tension in the room shifted. She wasn’t just another face in the crowd. She was someone who would make her own place here—whether we liked it or not.

—-----

"Hello?" I answered the unknown number. If I weren’t in the business I was in, it would’ve gone straight to voicemail.

"It’s good to hear your voice again, Ms. O’Shay," came the smooth, familiar voice of Miguel Galindo.

I leaned back, my grip on the phone tightening. "I suppose I should say the same, Mr. Galindo. I must’ve been misinformed about your untimely demise."

"I’ve been away," he admitted, "but very much alive. I’m bringing the Mayans back into the fold, and I have a new partner. I’d like you to join us for a discussion—see how we can move forward in a way that’s profitable for all of us."

There was no hesitation in my response. "Text me the time and place. I’ll be there."

Patrick cut the engine as we rolled up to the warehouse. He glanced at me, jaw tight. "Ya sure about this, lass?"

I exhaled slowly, straightening my shirt. "As sure as I can be."

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. "Couldn’t let my favorite cousin get murdered in a place like this."

"I’m your only cousin," I reminded him.

"All the more reason." He flexed his fingers, subtly adjusting the weight of his sidearm under his jacket.

I took one last breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped inside like I belonged there.

Miguel was already waiting, standing with his usual quiet authority. Beside him stood a woman—small in stature but radiating a sharp, undeniable presence.

"Thank you for coming," Miguel said smoothly. "This is my new partner, Soledad. You might know her as the leader of the LNG."

I arched a brow. "Your business rival?"

Miguel’s lips curled into something between amusement and calculation. "That’s changing today."

"They’re here," one of Miguel’s guards announced.

I walked beside Soledad and Gilendo into the warehouse, Patrick just behind me. Their guards flanked him, a silent show of force, each step a calculated display. Across the table stood Marcus Alvarez and EZ Reyes—the Mayans, as expected.

"The fuck," EZ muttered, his eyes flicking between me, Miguel, and Soledad.

"Señora," Marcus greeted Soledad first, offering his hand with the respect of an old player in the game.

Miguel slid a chair out for her, then for me, ever the picture of composed authority.

"I wasn’t aware Mr. Alvarez would be bringing a guest," Soledad noted, her sharp gaze landing on EZ.

"Neither was I," Miguel responded smoothly, though the tension in his posture suggested otherwise.

Marcus remained steady. "Let me introduce my Vice President, Ezekiel Reyes. And Nova—good to see you again."

I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging him, though the air between us was thick with unspoken history.

Soledad leaned back, studying EZ. "Ezekiel’s vision led his people out of destruction and back to the glory of Jerusalem."

"I believe he was also martyred," EZ replied, his voice level, "Bound to wild horses and ripped to pieces."

Her lips twitched at the sharpness of his response. But her real focus was elsewhere. She noticed it—the underlying, unspoken war bubbling between EZ and Miguel, the tension crackling like a live wire.

"Are you two familiar with each other?" she asked, tilting her head.

Male fucking testosterone. The room practically reeked of it as they stared each other down.

Miguel barely glanced at EZ. "Vaguely."

EZ’s jaw tensed. "We share someone in common."

Miguel’s eyes flicked to him then, something colder lurking beneath his usual mask. "Have you spoken with her?"

"I was gonna ask you the same," EZ countered.

The weight of that hung in the air for a beat too long before Soledad cut through it. "I hope there won’t be an issue with the business arrangement."

Marcus, ever the pragmatist, settled into his chair. "With all due respect, I’m not exactly clear on what this business relationship is."

Soledad leaned forward, threading her fingers together, her voice smooth but firm. "I’m aware the roots of your partnership with my brother have grown rotten. That has caused issues for us both—supply stalling, demand heightening. We are here, with the help of Mr. Galindo and Ms. O’Shay, to build a bridge between our two seemingly disparate islands."

Miguel took the cue effortlessly. "This deal won’t just benefit you and the Mayans—it will completely reshape how business is conducted. We’re challenging the belief that brutality and profit must coexist. I’ve seen the cost of needless violence, the losses it creates. But now, I believe I’ve found the right partners to lead us toward a more sustainable future."

A beat of silence. Then Soledad continued, her tone shifting. "There’s just one thing—due to temporary liquidity issues, I’m going to need you to take three times the original agreement my brother arranged. Effective immediately."

Marcus’s brow lifted slightly. "Do you even have that quantity?"

With a flick of her wrist, her men stepped forward, yanking tarps away to reveal pallets upon pallets of heroin bricks. A fucking fortune laid bare.

"Product isn’t an issue," Soledad said simply.

Miguel smirked. "I’ve assured Soledad the Mayans will be able to handle the load. Ms. O’Shay will provide the necessary equipment to ensure everything moves smoothly."

Soledad’s gaze locked onto EZ’s. "Miguel will serve as my appointed liaison north of the border. I trust you two can work together to facilitate this arrangement."

Miguel, ever measured, added, "Yet the deal itself is between Marcus and me. We have a long working history."

Marcus exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling in. "I owe you, carnal. I came here today out of respect for you—and for our gracious host. But this isn’t a decision I can make lightly."

Soledad’s expression remained unreadable, but there was steel in her voice. "The clock is ticking, Mr. Alvarez. If you can’t see your way to doing business with me, someone else will. And if that someone happens to be your enemy, then you will become mine."

Marcus studied her carefully, then asked, "And your brother? Where does he stand on all of this?"

Soledad’s eyes darkened just a fraction.

"My brother will be handled."

—---

"Hey," I answered Bishop’s call, surprised to see his name flash across my screen. It had been a long time since he called without it meaning some kind of catastrophe with the club.

"Hey, querida," he said, his voice rougher than usual, like he’d been carrying the weight of too many long nights. "Fuck… shit’s been so fucking complicated lately. I’m sorry. I just—"

I sank into the couch, already knowing where his mind was at. "I know, baby." My voice was soft, reassuring. "What do you want to do?"

He hesitated for a beat, then sighed. "Do you wanna go out? Have a drink or something?" A pause. "Away from the club. None of that bullshit."

That made me smile. "Are you asking me on a date, Bishop?"

I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Yeah. I guess I am."

I let the moment stretch, teasing him just a little. "You know, I don’t think we’ve ever actually been on a real date."

"What?" He scoffed. "Of course we have."

"No, Bishop," I laughed. "Everything has just been one thing after another since I met you. We’ve never done the whole ‘dinner and drinks, no impending doom’ thing."

He exhaled, like he was realizing it at the same time I said it. "Shit. You’re right." Then, after a beat, softer, more certain—"Let’s change that."

I bit my lip, enjoying this rare moment of ease between us. "Pick me up at the shop after Templo."

There was a pause. Then, "How’d you know there was a meeting tonight?"

I smirked. "Baby, there’s always a meeting."

"I'll see you then," he said, his voice laced with something softer, something certain.

As I ended the call, a feeling settled in my chest—lighter, hopeful. Like maybe, after everything, we could find our way back to each other. Maybe I was just grasping at something that wasn’t really there, but for the first time in a long time, I wanted to believe it could be.

I busied myself closing up the shop, the anticipation building with every minute that passed. And then, there it was—the low, familiar rumble of his bike outside.

My heart kicked up a notch.

I took a quick breath, smoothing my hands down my jeans before raking my fingers through my hair. It was pointless—I’d be wearing a helmet soon enough—but I still wanted to look good for him.

Stepping outside, I caught the way his gaze moved over me from behind his glasses, slow and appreciative. That look alone sent a warmth through me, one I hadn’t felt in far too long.

I climbed on behind him, hands resting on his sides. “You’re gonna have to hold on tighter than that, querida,” I heard the smirk in Bishop’s voice as he pulled away from the curb. My hands slipped tighter around his waist. 

"Better," he murmured, barely audible over the roar of the bike, but I could hear the satisfaction in his tone.

The vibration of the engine beneath us sent a hum through my body as Bishop eased onto the road, the cool night air whipping past. I smiled against his shoulder, tightening my hold just a little more.

There was something about riding with him that was different. I’d been on the back of a bike plenty of times—EZ, Angel—but it never felt like this. With them, it was just a ride. A means to an end. But with Bishop, it was something else entirely. The way he moved, the way I could just hold on and feel every shift, every turn—like we were in sync, part of the same rhythm.

I let my eyes close for a moment, breathing it in. The scent of leather, the distant burn of gasoline, the unmistakable feeling of being exactly where I was supposed to be.

We rode together through town like we were the only two people on the road. We pulled to a stop at an out-of-the-way place. One without lines of bikes outside. The sound of classic rock echoed from inside. 

I let him take my hand and lead me inside to a booth close enough where we could still enjoy the band but far enough away that we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. 

“I’ve missed you,” I said after the waitress set a couple of bottles in front of us.

“Look shit is just so fucking crazy,” he told me. “I got wrapped up in all the beef with the other charters. Now this shit with the Sons. Coco…”

I nodded, I’d been dealing with so much. But I couldn’t tell him all of it. My stuff didn’t just impact me. Confessing wouldn’t do anything but hurt Angel and the club. I cared about him too much to do that to him. Especially with all he’d lost already. 

I pushed the thoughts away, I shouldn’t be thinking about Angel now. Not when things with Bishop were about to get to a better place. 

I take a long drink from my beer, tilting my head to listen to the music. I caught Bishop’s eyes, studying me like he was trying to figure me out all over again.

“You’re quiet, querida.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, swirling the bottle in my hands. “I just wasn’t expecting this tonight. You surprised me.”

I wanted to say more—how he pushed me away, made me feel small, like I was something he could set aside whenever things got too complicated. But now wasn’t the time.

Bishop exhaled, leaning back against the booth. “You always do that. Deflect when something’s on your mind.”

“I—”

“Well, look who it is.”

The voice cut through whatever I was about to say, making my stomach tighten. I looked up, and there he was—blocking my view of the stage. A client. One that always made my skin crawl.

I forced a polite smile. “Mr. Smith. Nice to see you again.” We both knew that wasn’t his real name. “Business or pleasure?”

His smirk widened. “Pleasure, I suppose. Though I thought you kept more... exclusive company.”

“I do.” My voice was steady, dismissive. “Enjoy your night.”

I turned back to Bishop, ending the conversation before it could drag out any longer. But as Smith walked away, I caught the smirk on his face—like he knew something Bishop didn’t.

Bishop’s jaw clenched. “Who the fuck was that?” His eyes stayed locked on me, sharp and unreadable.

I took a slow breath. The last thing I needed was to light a match near the fire Bishop was already carrying.

“A client from the store.” I shrugged, forcing a casualness I didn’t feel. “No one, really. Don’t wor—”

“No one, my ass.”

And just like that, the night shifted.

I watched as Bishop downed his beer, then waved the bartender over for a round of tequila. Then another. And another.

By the time last call rang out, Bishop took it as a challenge, ordering five more shots like he had something to prove—to himself, to me, maybe even to the ghosts that wouldn’t let him rest.

I didn’t stop him. I should have, but I didn’t.

He winced when the bar lights flickered on, too bright, too harsh after the haze of alcohol and dim neon glow. Without a word, he tossed some cash onto the table and pushed off his seat, a little unsteady.

I walked beside him as we headed for the door, the cool night air hitting us like a reminder that the world outside still existed.

I pulled out my phone to call for an Uber. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bishop glared at me.

“I don’t think you should be driving, baby,” I told him. 

“I’m fucking fine,” he muttered. 

“I really think we should take an Uber,” I responded, “my SUV is at the shop so I can take you home and we can come back in the morning to get your bike.”

“That fucking shop again?” he shot back at me, “Always fucking throwing that shit in my face.” 

I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening around my phone. Here we go again.

"Bishop, that's not what I—"

"Always the shop, always your business." His voice was rough, words slurring just enough to tell me he was drunker than he thought. "I get it. You don’t need me."

"That’s not fair," I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’m just trying to make sure you don’t wreck your goddamn bike and kill yourself tonight."

His jaw tensed, shoulders squared like he was ready for a fight. But I wasn’t giving him one. Not this time.

I took a step back, lowering my phone. "Fine. You wanna ride? Go ahead, Bishop. But I’m not getting on the back of that bike with you like this.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, breathing hard. Then he ran a hand down his face, frustration bleeding into exhaustion.

"Fuck," he muttered, looking away.

"Come on," I said, softer this time. "Let me take care of you tonight."

“You know what, fuck that,” he said, his stumbled.

“You can be fucking pissed at me as long as you fucking want to, but I don’t want to lose you because you are being fucking stupid,” I told him, “if you don’t want to come home with me, at least call Hank or Taza to pick you up.” 

“Fuck Taza, that gay motherfucker,” he muttered. 

I looked at him, the way he threw ‘gay’ as a slur. I’d had a feeling about Taza but his choice to live his life stealth was his business. It wasn’t my place to force him out of the closet. 

My stomach twisted at the venom in Bishop’s voice. I stared at him, the alcohol amplifying all the worst parts of him—anger, resentment, the weight of everything he refused to deal with.

"You’re drunk," I said evenly, pushing down the urge to lash out. "And you’re saying shit you’re gonna regret in the morning."

"Yeah?" He scoffed, swaying slightly on his feet. "What, you gonna tell me how to fucking think now too?"

I clenched my jaw. Not the time. Not the place.

"You know what, Bishop? Do whatever the fuck you want." I shook my head and turned away, pulling up my Uber app. "But I’m not standing here while you act like this."

"Don’t fucking walk away from me."

I stopped but didn’t turn around. "Then give me a reason to stay."

Silence.

When I finally looked back, he was staring at the ground, jaw tight, fists clenched.

For a moment, I thought he’d say something. But he just shook his head and turned toward his bike.

Stupid, stubborn, reckless motherfucker.

I exhaled sharply and walked toward the curb.

[the-bar-sinister]

Sandstorms and Starfall (48038 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 11/?

Summary: When Vivi makes a midnight escape from the palace of Alabasta and flees the country in an attempt to get stronger and rejoin the Straw Hat pirates as a full crew member she finds herself unsure of her path forward. That is until a chance meeting brings her face to face with her former enemy, and former hero, Sir Crocodile who agrees to help her on her quest to find a devil fruit for herself.

It's surprisingly easy to make peace with the former warlord, if not to forgive or trust him. But the longer she spends around him, and the former Baroque Works agents helping her find her way through the Grand Line, the more she finds that the troubles in her heart are not the simple ones that she expected to be facing.

catch up here

-

The incident that had interrupted Vivi's heart to heart with Captain Crocodile was as serious and potentially deadly as it was stupid. She had heard about the insane weather the further on the Grand Line that one sailed, but this was her first encounter with it.

A rain of frozen fish, some of which were the size of a person.

Vivi had been absolutely awestruck. Like, yeah—outside of Alabasta the weather could get weird, randomly changing from calm to a hurricane in mere moments. But this was something on a whole other level.

The fish had sent the boat rocking, and damaged some of the woodwork here and there—but when the men had gotten on it, they'd done all they could to intercept.

Marianne had made the deadpan crack that 'at least they didn't have to worry about refrigeration' 

Crocodile had come up on deck and immediately took over from Daz, barking orders at the crew. They'd already taken in sail, and were navigating across the short end of the storm. There was no way to dodge individual fish, so all they could do was mitigate the damage.

It was the first time Vivi saw Crocodile using his devil fruit powers to any serious degree since Alabasta. Torrents of sand smashed huge blocks of ice out of the sky and away from their ship.

Vivi wasn't sure what she could do, but she was set on doing something, even as her eye was drawn to Crocodile's powers' flow and decimate the projectiles falling their way. When smaller ones came falling, Vivi used her peacock slashers to slice through the ice and reduce the possible damage. Zala fell in near her, projecting spikes to stab into the ice blocks and using her surprising strength to use the 'icepick' like holds on them to toss them off the ship or into her captain's blasts of sand. 

The storm, thankfully, vanished as quickly as it had appeared leaving the crew on deck breathless and surrounded by quickly melting ice and slush– and quite a few dead fish.

Marianne ran out onto the deck and lifted a particularly large one with a muted smile and declared rather firmly. "Dinnerrrrrr"

Vivi pressed her hand to her face, laughing. The whole thing was absolutely absurd. Only in the Grand Line—only in the grand line would they be assailed by literal frozen fish. 

Crocodile laughed. "Alright, crew, grab the big ones and I'll sweep the minnow's off the fucking deck. I can't believe I was interrupted by another goddamn rain of fish."

"Interrupted, eh Captain?" Zala asked with a casual smile as she leaned on the wall.

Vivi turned bright pink, trying not to catch anyone's eyes as she directed some of the men to grab the larger fish. 

"My morning reading," Crocodile drawled, lifting his chin imperiously. He waved his hook with a smirk. "What are you lot looking at, get back to work!"

-

The rest of the day, work on the ship kept Vivi busy– too busy to have a moment alone with the captain, whether by accident or design. She'd 'joked' about it being some kind of act of fate that had gotten in the way of what was shaping up to be a passionate decision—but the longer things conspired to keep her apart from Crocodile the more she was starting to believe it.

She worked hard, as she often did, tending to the rigging and working with Karoo to run about making sure everything was properly secured after the storm. Karoo seemed—dubious of her. Maybe he could sense something was off, which was exactly why she was doing everything she could to keep the both of them distracted.

As she wrapped a rope around her hand and yanked it back into place—she wondered if she was growing the same as Crocodile. Her skin a healthier shade, muscles where the life of a princess had softened her….she hoped so. The train of thought didn't quite derail her from thinking about the way Crocodile looked during their training.

"Geeze…" she murmured softly, standing on Karoo's back enough to reach a higher rope.

Karoo quacked at her, as if trying to keep her on task. From the tone, it was easy once again to feel like he knew something was up. Could he smell Crocodile on her? She had no idea how sensitive a duck's sense of smell was.

Vivi looked down at him as she grabbed the rope and checked it for frays. "I'm grabbing it, Karoo! Gosh! What's ruffled your feathers?" 

He quacked again, tossing his head as if to say 'you should know'.

Vivi flushed and pointed down at him as her footing wobbled. The rope was fine—sure, a little banged up but not to any kind of level where it'd be a structural problem.

She held tight to it. "Maybe I should! But I've got no idea how you'd know, MIster! Nothing's happening!" 

"Weh!" Karoo did not seem to believe that at all.

Maybe it had something to do with the approaching bootsteps. Ones she was already becoming familiar with.

For the first time she almost fumbled the rope, flushing a little as she caught herself on Karoo's back. The supersonic duck was already up in arms over her just smelling like Crocodile—and now here he came.

Recent memories came back to the forefront, a bright flush crossing her face at the feeling of his lips against hers in the cozy but close-held cabin. Her face was warm—her stomach so full of butterflies that she felt almost dizzy with the way they spun and whirled inside her. But she gripped the rope tighter and looked over her shoulder with a smile.

"H-h-hey Captain Crocodile!"

"Am I distracting you?" He chuckled roughly as he approached. "Looking a little wobbly there."

Karoo's reaction to Crocodile's arrival didn't help. The duck whipped around to stare menacingly at the captain, further throwing off Vivi's footing on his back.

"N-no, I'm fine, you're not—Karoo you idiot, stop wiggling!"

Her foot slipped on his saddle—and she found herself falling backwards with a squeak, the rope going taut around her hand as she tumbled towards the deck.

She landed squarely in Crocodile's arms as he stepped forward to catch her, the rush of the fall leaving her breathless and dizzy.

Her head spun as she looked up at him with a shaky edge to her smile, sure that the ferocity of her flush showed through the mussed cerulean locks of her hair. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything to say—he was warm, solid, he'd caught her before she hit the deck—but she had to stop herself from staring.

She tried to catch her breath before she murmured a thank you.

Karoo had gone and made it worse, not that he'd acknowledge it. 

"Fine, eh?" He grinned down at her with his long smile, eyebrows raised in an expression that was certainly patronizing, but somehow still a little endearing.

Karoo quacked loudly– Vivi wasn't sure if he was going to scuttle away, or possibly bite the captain.

"I was fine until Karoo had a fit." She huffed, sticking her tongue out at him impishly. Somehow— she couldn't find the will to stand up and pull away. Not yet. "Careful, he might bite you." 

Crocodile showed no sign of putting her down anyway, and gave Karoo a dubious look. The two of them stared at one another for a long moment.

"Doesn't like me much, does he?"

"Weh." Karoo snapped and gave the former warlord of the sea a haughty look, as if the duck was above him.

She couldn't help but sputter a bit in amusement before she huffed and rested her head against his chest. 

"He's still pretty mad about Alabasta. Ducks hold grudges for 10,000 years you know." 

"I didn't know they lived that long," he drawled, not breaking his gaze with Karoo. "Or should I expect trouble from his descendants?"

Vivi laughed, finally letting go of the rope as she gave Karoo a long and warning look. "Probably. So hopefully he doesn't meet a nice lady duck to settle down with. You'd be haunted by angry ducks for generations."

She felt her heart beating in her chest, the feeling of his arms around her sending tingles of excitement through her. "Karoo, be nice." 

"Weh!" He snapped, but he finally broke the tense stare off between him and Crocodile. 

Croc laughed and shook his head, finally setting Vivi down on her feet. As he did, the back of his hook ran up her spine. "Well, he didn't bite me so that's something, right? I suppose I can't blame him for his grudge."

Vivi's body shivered at the brush of his hook, only thinly separated by her thin top from her bare skin. She bit her lip to keep from making a noise, and smothered it with another laugh.

"At least, right! I can't blame him either—but, w-well. Circumstances were circumstances. Things are changing. Besides, he gets along real well with Daz, so he must know you're all not THAT bad." 

"Maybe I should do like Daz does and fatten him up for dinner." Crocodile's grin turned a little feral, and for a moment Karoo looked concerned. Then he looked away in a huff. "I'm kidding, of course."

Vivi smoothed out her skirt, head still spinning from the drop—and the proximity to Crocodile. It was surreal wasn't it? The way they fell into this easy patter; even after Alabasta, now that she'd forgiven him. Even after that shared, intimate kiss.

Even after being interrupted before it became something more. The way they joked—even if it was at poor Karoo's expense. The handsome curve of his smile and the brush of his hook sent such a feeling through her.

It couldn't be love, could it? She swallowed, and flashed a smile. "Of course, I know you wouldn't eat Karoo, Crocodile. He's too cute to be a morning meal, right Karoo?" 

"Too fat for the morning meal, anyway. We can get at least two dinners out of him. Cute dinners."

Karoo's feathers pinned and his tail feathers fanned he turned around indignantly, showing his behind to the captain, who again, only laughed.

Crocodile shook his head. "Well, your duck's grudge aside, Vivi there was something I wanted to ask you."

Vivi turned her eyes from Karoo's antics and back up at Crocodile's face with a tilt of her head. "Y-yeah Crocodile?" 

He shrugged fluidly, but something in his posture , or the set of his jaw, told her he was a little bit tense. Nervous, perhaps. "If you wanted to continue our conversation from this morning, I'd be happy to have you in my cabin for a drink after dinner. Otherwise, I think we should postpone our training sessions until we make shore on Mystoria."

Continue their conversation… or postpone their training. That made Crocodile's thoughts seemingly very clear. He didn't think he could train with her without finishing what they'd started. which was… what exactly?

It was hard to say—they'd been practicing their talent for haki—but it became pretty clear that there was a distraction in the room. Eachother. She'd started… something… when she'd leapt up to kiss him to break him out of his spiral of self-doubt. But what was she trying to do? Woo him?

She felt herself flushing as she stammered wordlessly. "A d-drink huh?" she murmured. "...I could use a drink."

"I'll be in my cabin with one after dinner then." He fished in his pocket and pulled out a half smoked cigar, putting it in his mouth. "If you don't show up, I won't hold it against you."

His hook briefly brushed her cheek, and then the captain turned and started away down the deck.

The ghost of his hook lingered on her cheek as she reached out in a wave, calling out on impulse "I'm looking forward to it, Croccy!"

An invitation back to his room to finish what they started—maybe, maybe if she didn't chicken out, maybe she'd be able to figure out exactly what it was they'd started.

And where it'd lead. 

-

The rest of the afternoon had seemed to fly by in a haze, and dinner with the crew was the same kind of lively affair that Vivi had come to expect, and enjoy, since the beginning of their journey. Eating together in the cramped galley space had a familiar camaraderie to it, reminding her all too well of her time with the Straw Hats, in a way.

They laughed together, teased—Marianne had taken to drawing during dinner and showing off her doodles between bites of fish, and Zala was in high spirits enough to start joking around about her assassination career with Daz. It was lively, it was FUN—but her eye kept being drawn back to Crocodile and the promise of a drink after dinner.

She wasn't sure if she was imagining it or not, the way Crocodile's eyes seemed to return to her face more than they usually did, despite the constant bids for attention from Daz, and from Bentham, and all the others. 

Bentham had even put his feet up in Crocodile's lap!

Vivi felt herself flushing throughout, sure that the others had noticed as she leaned on her hand and cast glances to meet his eyes before quickly averting. Even through Bentham's flirting—very open flirting—he still seemed to notice her across the table.

But she did her best not to let it get the better of her. She joked and laughed—told stories of her own and prodded them out of Bentham and at least attempted to with Crocodile.

Anything to distract from the butterflies as they returned to her chest. 

Dinners usually lingered a while, and Captain Crocodile usually lingered a while after them with one of his cigars, but this time he excused himself almost right after the end of the meal. Vivi watched him shove Bentham's feet away with a grin– and pat his cheek– before giving the crew a wave.

His eyes met Vivi's one more time before he stalked off.

"Well! Croco-babe's in a mood tonight," Betham teased, giggling and glancing around the table.

Vivi watched him go for a moment as she nibbled the last of the bread on her face with a flush. "H-he certainly is. He's probably got something he wants to d-do tonight."

"Wonder what that could be." Ben grinned slyly.

Daz reached across the table to refill his mug. "Whatever it is, it's his business. Not gossip."

"Spoilsport."

Vivi ducked her head in embarrassment. "I ha-have no idea. No Gossip though, t-that's for the best. By the by—I think I'm going to be turning in earlyish tonight."

Marianne looked up with a tilt of her head. "To the ladies cabin?" 

Daz caught Vivi's eye. "Didn't you tell me you were going to spend some time with Karoo?"

He was giving her an excuse– if she wanted to take it. Which meant that he knew exactly what was going on. No surprise, given how close he and Crocodile were.

Vivi flushed deeper, giving him an incredibly thankful smile as she tried to shrink from the crew's scrutiny. "Yeah—I was going to go spend some time with Karoo . He's been grumpy lately. Hope you all don't mind."

"Not at all," Daz said immediately, forestalling any other objections. "Let the old grump know I say hello."

Zala raised her eyebrow at the two of them while Vivi stood with a lopsided smile "I'll pass it along, promise!"

She looked over her shoulder at them. "You guys enjoy dinner! I'll see you later!" 

After that, Vivi found herself alone in corridors of the ship's below deck, with the prospect of making her way to Crocodile's cabin– or the alternative of doing absolutely anything other than that.

She waffled for a moment. On one hand, logically she knew she should take a step back. She was obviously emotional, drawn in to his charms. She should take a step back and remember why it was that she was shutting down that old crush in the first place.

It was sensible. That was the logical, responsible thing to do…so why did she find her feet leading her towards the man's cabin?

One foot after the other. It wasn't a long walk, just all the way to the stern of the ship, the end of the long, narrow hallway. The only sound was her footsteps, the groan of the ship's timbers in the rocking sea, and the gentle murmur of continued conversation from the galley.

Her good sense or her heart? Which should she follow? It was the question that played over and over as she wandered the bowels of the ship.

It seemed the answer had come to her when she found herself standing outside Crocodile's door, knocking gently upon it. 

There was a flutter of activity from within, and then the door clicked open. Captain Crocodile stood framed by it in front of her, tall and imposing as always, his coat discarded and his shirt sleeves rolled and pinned. There was a trail of dark hair up each of his forearms, interrupted by old puckered and shiny scars– but none so visible and obvious than the one that peeked just above the polished shine of his hook.

"I wasn't sure if I'd see you or not this evening, Viv. Come in."

"I was kind of going back and forth, myself." She smiled shyly as she stepped into the room. Her eyes lingered on him—on his arms, the scars marking a long history of memories, and the place where his hook set over his arm.

It was a rare sight, but one she wasn't unhappy to see. She bit her lip "I heard you had a drink ready for me." 

"Sure do." He gestured to the table in the small room where a couple of glasses with ice and a large bottle of whisky had been set out. "Can't wait til we upgrade ships. On Mystoria I hope. Missing my old ship's state room just about now."

Crocodile chuckled, and as she stepped inside he closed the door. She felt his eyes lingering on her from behind her.

She shifted, letting herself pose a little to catch his eye despite herself. Was she trying to attract him? 

Of course she was—she certainly was attracted to him, even if her good sense still grumbled that it was a bad idea, she still couldn't quite keep herself from trying to draw his eye to her as she slid into one of the seats.

"I'd bet. I never got to see it, what was it like?" 

He slid into the other chair- more beside her than across from her, but angled so that they were still facing one another. He tugged the cork on the whisky out with the tip of his hook and poured a generous measure for both of them.

"Had a bed about the size of this whole room for one thing," he said with a wide grin, his dark eyes narrow. He slid one of the glasses toward her. "Big map table. Desk. The wardrobe was a piece we hauled out of an old mansion, all carved with roses. Used to have a big stuffed gator sitting on top of it."

His grin turned soft— nostalgic certainly, as he talked about his old ship. Vivi had never seen it. It must have been at least fifteen years since Crocodile had.

Vivi took the whiskey glass from him with a smile, tilting it back and forth in her hands as she listened. 

"It sounds like it was beautiful, Croccy. I mean—that wardrobe sounds like something straight out of a palace. And that bed sounds—gosh." She giggled as she took a sip. "...did you catch the gator yourself?" 

The amber liquid hit her lips, rich and smooth and warm like honey, with a finishing burn of alcohol. Crocodile had broken out the good stuff.

It really was the good stuff—high quality and delicious. The kind that could sneak up on you because it was nice enough to drink. 

"You're picturing me wrestling one?" He smirked, lifting his glass in a little salute before taking a long sip himself.

The image did come to mind easily—his coat off, wrestling the crocodile with his bare hands as—

She felt herself burning bright with embarrassment as she tilted back another sip to hide it.

"Maybe." 

"Then maybe I did." He chuckled, and leaned his chin on the top of his hook. "Once we get a good ship, I'll have to start collecting furniture and shit again. Haven't done that in a long time."

The way he said it had a sad nostalgia to it, and Vivi could guess why. Crocodile had lost everything, and in his bitter cynicism that had grown up in the wake of that loss, had rejected the idea of holding on to things. At least, that was how it seemed to her.

Holding onto objects, holding onto people. It was all the same to Sir Crocodile when the despair had hold of him. Maybe because he'd been scared of losing it all again.

SHe leaned forward to look him in the eyes with a smile "You should, Croccy—I'll even help. When we have that ship, we'll make it just as nice as your old cabin—maybe even nicer." 

"Maybe. Can't tell what the future holds, eh?" That was a big admission from him, and it came with a smile. "Like for instance, I never predicted having you in here with me over drinks. You like the whisky? It's not a bad one."

Vivi flushed and she sipped it again to prove her point when she murmured "it's maybe the best whiskey I've ever had actually. Or maybe it's just the company?"

She laughed quietly "to be honest, if you asked me only a month or so ago if I ever thought I'd be sharing a drink with you—I'd have assumed I'd gone insane." 

"Most people you know would probably say you're crazy, Viv." He leaned closer to her.

Vivi huffed softly, still not breaking the contact with his eyes as they slowly drifted closer together. "Would you call me crazy, Croc?" 

He grinned, looming over her as he scooted his chair even closer to hers. "No question. All pirates are insane, Viv. Just some of us are the fun kind."

"That's a pretty good point, isn't it?" She laughed. Memories of the Straw Hats—of the Baroque Works agents too—flashed through her head "well, it sounds like I'm in good company then, so I'll take it as a compliment!"

She chewed her lip. "One insane pirate to another."

He clinked his glass against hers. "One insane pirate to another. So. Pirate to pirate– I got something on my mind, doll."

The ringing of the glass still in her ears, she raised it to her lips again to take another sip. "...me too, but you go first." 

Crocodile smirked and sipped from his glass. "No, no. I'm a gentleman, remember? You go first."

He looked at her expectantly. Vivi felt her heart pulse in her chest, and she had to avert her gaze for the first time since they'd started talking. Of course he'd ask her to go first—which meant she either had to lie, or be honest.

And being honest meant telling him exactly what was on her mind—'finishing the conversation from this morning'. Talking about the kiss—and what it meant. "Uhm…"

He waited. Patiently he waited. With that wide, thin smile on his face, strands of dark hair escaping his slicked back style and falling over his eyes, swirling his drink in his hand.

"Mostly about what I want to say, Crocodile," she laughed shyly, daring to glance up and let her gaze linger on his smile. "And about our training session this morning?" 

"Funny enough, that was exactly what I was hoping to talk about." He drained his glass and set it on the table, pouring another measure of amber liquid over the ice. "So it sounds like we're on the same page that we gotta talk."

Vivi laughed before draining her own glass. 

"Yeah, I'd say we're on the same page—I ah, I guess I sure did something impulsive, huh?"

'And that was stupid, please forget it happened' her good sense urged inside her head. 

"Sure did. And I escalated it." He poured more whisky into her glass for her. "I'm real good at escalating shit, doll. It's practically my specialty."

"And here I thought that was practical leadership," she teased with a little grin. "...bu-but yeah. You sure escalated it."

And she liked it. She liked the rough and passionate kiss he'd placed upon her lips—she'd liked being wrapped in his arms "but it's not the sort of thing former enemies really share, is it?" 

"Depends on the former enemies in question," he purred. She was very aware of how close he was to her. The warmth of his large body. The scent of his cologne and his hair oil mixing with cigar smoke and whisky. "Among pirates it's not exactly unheard of. Princesses less so, but thankfully we don't gotta deal with any of those, right?"

Vivi flushed again, her hair falling down off her shoulder as she shifted and leaned on the table between them with a shy smile. "That's right—not a princess in sight."

There it was again—him smiling at her, acknowledging her as a pirate rather than a princess. As who she wanted to be, not who her father and Alabasta said she was. 

"Glad we're clear on that." He chuckled and sipped his drink. "I'm more comfortable among pirates, to be honest. The machinations are usually a little more open. Usually."

"Usually. I've seen a few pirates who like to take the long and winding way around, but—" She bit her lip. "I'd like if maybe the machinations were out there in the open. A-at least between us, right now." 

"Saves me a whole lotta trouble," he nodded. "So, you got any machinations you wanna tell em about after that little surprise this morning? Or are you playing things by ear."

"You're going to be disappointed in me, Croc" Vivi laughed as she tucked her hair over her ear. "...I thought 'I need to distract him from feeling bad about himself' and my brain used it as an excuse to shut off and let something else lead the way."

"I wouldn't say I'm disappointed." He leaned in, his shoulder brushing hers. "Honestly, I'd say that's growth, isn't it? We've both let our head get in the way of our instincts in the past, haven't we?"

Vivi tipped her drink back, placing the empty cup on the table as their shoulders brushed.

In the past—Vivi had always had a problem with that, hadn't she? After a certain point. After her time running around with gangs in the streets and making life hell for Chaka and Pell, after her grand plan to infiltrate Baroque Works—she'd started letting her head block her heart.

That's why the Straw Hats left without her on her request. That was why she held herself back time and time again and did what she knew Alabasta 'needed' from her. That was why she never made an appeal to Crocodile when she figured out his plans. Crocodile had been the same way, hadn't he?

All those years when he let his 'plans' smother his instincts.

"I'd say we've had a pretty bad problem with it, yeah…" 

"Yeah. So, I'm glad you let your instincts take over. Might have spared us all kinds of problems." He put his hand on top of hers. It was large, and warm, and surprisingly soft.

"I like you, Viv. A lot. I might be kinda falling for you. But I'm not gonna pretend to be somebody I'm not any more, so we gotta talk about that."

He turned his dark, narrow eyed gaze on her. She'd felt it on her face many times before, but never quite so open, or earnest. Vulnerable.

A part of Crocodile he rarely let show—he was opening himself to her, just like she was hoping to open up to him too.

She smiled at him, her eyes lingering on his hand before she looked up to meet his eyes. Her other hand rested atop his. 

"I like you too, Crocodile." Nerves briefly tried to overtake her, to make her hesitate, but she continued "I liked you a lot in the past, but since we started spending time together again I think I'm falli…I might be falling for you too. But y-you're right. It's something we've got to talk about."

She laughed, self conscious despite herself. "We do have a complicated history, after all." 

"We do. And like I was saying before that little crisis this morning, we could make it even more complicated real easy. So before we do that. Let's talk, eh?"

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from E&E News/Politico:

The Bureau of Land Management announced Thursday it has finalized a sweeping new public lands rule that places conservation and restoration of public lands on equal footing with energy development and mining.

The final rule implements a suite of conservation policy tools and initiatives BLM offices are directed to employ in an effort to protect natural spaces and restore lands in the face of a warming climate.

The rule states that urgent action is needed to preserve and restore federal rangelands against drought and increased wildfires, or the 245 million acres BLM oversees will no longer be able in the coming decades to support grazing, recreation or energy development.

“The rule does not prioritize conservation above other multiple uses. It also does not preclude other uses where conservation use is occurring,” according to the final rule. “Many uses are compatible with different types of conservation use, such as sustainable recreation, grazing, and habitat management. The rule also does not enable conservation use to occur in places where an existing, authorized, and incompatible use is occurring.”

Critics, including the National Mining Association, blasted the final rule as an effort to block energy production and mining, and a betrayal of BLM’s mandate to accommodate a range of uses beyond conservation.

But it’s a victory for conservation groups and other supporters who see it as a major and long-overdue policy shift for an agency they say has too often favored ranching, oil and gas drilling or mining over the preservation and health of federal rangelands.

The rule will formally take effect 30 days after it is published in the Federal Register, presumably in the coming days.

The final BLM rule is among a handful of major policy changes, rules and initiatives rolled out within the past week as President Joe Biden looks to bolster his appeal to conservationists and young climate activists during an election year.

Summary of the Public Lands Rule from a press release from the Department of the Interior:

The final rule:

Directs BLM to manage for landscape health. Successful public land management that delivers natural resources, wildlife habitat and clean water requires a thorough understanding of the health and condition of the landscape, especially as conditions shift on the ground due to climate change. To help sustain the health of our lands and waters, the rule directs the BLM to manage public land uses in accordance with the fundamentals of land health, which will help watersheds support soils, plants, and water; ecosystems provide healthy populations and communities of plants and animals; and wildlife habitats on public lands protect threatened and endangered species consistent with the multiple use and sustained yield framework.  

Provides a mechanism for restoring and protecting our public lands through restoration and mitigation leases. Restoration leases provide greater clarity for the BLM to work with appropriate partners to restore degraded lands. Mitigation leases will provide a clear and consistent mechanism for developers to offset their impacts by investing in land health elsewhere on public lands, like they currently can on state and private lands. The final rule clarifies who can obtain a restoration or mitigation lease, limiting potential lessees to qualified individuals, businesses, non-governmental organizations, Tribal governments, conservation districts, or state fish and wildlife agencies. Restoration and mitigation leases will not be issued if they would conflict with existing authorized uses. 

Clarifies the designation and management of ACECs. The final rule provides greater detail about how the BLM will continue to follow the direction in the Federal Land Policy and Management Act to prioritize the designation and protection of ACECs. Following public comments, the final rule clarifies how BLM consideration of new ACEC nominations and temporary management options does not interfere with the BLM’s discretion to continue advancing pending project applications.

[dsp-consultants]

Blast Resistant Consultants in Saudi Arabia: Ensuring Safety and Structural Integrity

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Key elements of our services include:

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Why Choose DSP Consultants?

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Blast Resistance in Saudi Arabia

Saudi Arabia’s rapidly growing infrastructure requires advanced engineering solutions that prioritize safety and resilience. From industrial zones in Jubail and Yanbu to urban projects in Riyadh and Jeddah, our consultants ensure that every structure we design is prepared to withstand potential threats.

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[diabeticdingus]

"Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard + Crew

I've got like, severe character brainrot about these fellows so here's a snippet of lore for each of them, developed over the 4 days it took me to finish the painting lol

Listed left to right in the portrait

Aria Joshi, Half-Dragon Caelumite pilot. Aria's a natural ace pilot, so exceptional in simulators that she was allowed to join the pilot training school, acing every test with any aircraft they could squeeze into. Despite the difficulties in sourcing crafts, she can fly almost anything. She has red head crest and tail plume feathers, and is otherwise adorned with pink and blue feathers spread randomly. Primary pilot of the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

Prezrau Shias, Felisus copilot. Prezrau is a similarly very good pilot, this time struggling to fit in the cockpits the other way. Their short stature does mean they need minor accomodations for being able to reach some of the controls in their crafts, although they overcome this with their boundless tenacity and ferocity. Quite a secretive and austere fellow, they tend to shy away from most things social. They have markings similar to a serval cat. Copilot of the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

Trekech Vozaresh, Orc medic. Trekech Is a skilled paramedical professional, recruited for the rescue squad for his calming presence and strong build. More of a land lover, he isn't too big of a fan of getting wet, but he can take it if he needs to. He does what is right because it is what must be done. During a mission, he was blasted with a spray of shrapnel from a stray flak shell that ripped through the door of the AV, disfiguring his face and upper body significantly, and peppered the rest with smaller pieces. He doesn't hold a grudge against the attacked. Medic of the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

Thalasan Salie, Aquarite rescue swimmer Thalasan Is one of the strongest swimmers (even for aquarites) on record for the corps. There isn't much to speak about him, since hes quite self explanatory. He has been known to swim tens of miles to reach people in need of rescue, when the helicopter cannot get close. Rescue swimmer of the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

Éric Gunnarson, Human rescue swimmer Éric Is a very enthusiastic body modder, who loves everything even remotely related to electronics. He has prosthetic legs, arms, and eyes, along with an integrated rebreather in his respiratory system, allowing him to breathe water easily. When on missions, he can deploy flippers on his feet, allowing for significantly better ability to swim in any water. He uses his augmented eyes to scan the water for rescue targets, using thermal imaging and other spectrums for clarity. His arms sport attachments which allow him to easily be picked up by the helicopter, and easily hold rescue subjects. Very confident in his bionics, and loves his job. All waterproofed up to 500 ft down. Rescue swimmer for the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

Jonox Kalego, Umbrite technician Jo Is a mechanical wizard with technical skills to boot. They are a very improvisationally skilled person, being able to macgyver almost anything together to mitigate a bad situation. Generally outgoing, but a bit obnoxious at times. Can be found playing practical pranks on people during off hours. Has capped horns with replacements over them, occasionally using them as small containers for things like water, snacks, or small tools. Technician of the "Voodoo Child" AV-42-R of the USLF Coast Guard initiative.

"Voodoo Child" An AV-42-C "Kestrel" modified into a S/R craft, (hence the R designator) operated by the USLF Coast Guard Initiative. The cargo compartment has been fitted with extra seating, and a very solid arrangement of medical tools. Lightly armored, VTOL capable, uses jets with full tilting capability for the best maneuverability possible. Only damaged twice, never disabled. Roughly 90% success rate when operated by its typical crew!

[shimmerbeasts]

style of combat? - Mizora

Get to know your Tav||Accepting.

Mizora's style of combat is deeply inspired by the fact that she is not a very good soldier. She does not have the bulk of Zariel's other Cambion children or the animalistic ferocity needed to be a barbarian. Instead of brute strength, she is extremely dexterous, swift and agile. Her body is wiry, which makes her hitbox much smaller, but it comes at the cost that she cannot tank heavy hits that well.

Mizora's fighting style is therefore designed to mitigate her weaknesses and put her strengths into focus. Unlike other Cambions and hellions in Zariel's army, who tap into animalism for their fighting prowess, Mizora draws her fighting style from the ways Aasimars and angels fight since Zariel was an angel too at one point.

This results in a style of combat, which blends Mizora's powers as a sorceress with the advantages of aerial mobility. Mizora's heaviest-hitting abilities are all almost exclusively spells, which is why she usually prefers to stay a bit out of range at first. However, Mizora is agile enough to make a sudden dash into close quarters, beat you with usually her rapier (if Wyll has not yet freed her from the mindflayer colony, this is the infernal rapier) or hit you with her tail and wings before she either darts away again or uses misty step. In general, Mizora's main calling card is her usually levitating the rapier, which allows her to attack and defend from unexpected angles, and teleporting around a lot.

When it comes to her spell arsenal, Mizora tends to use area-of-effect spells like Hunger of Hadar or Darkness to punish her opponent's mobility. Ranged spells like Eldritch Blast or Ice Knife are the equivalence of a ranger's arrows for her. Close-ranged spells like Burning Hands are spells, Mizora prefers to use defensively to punish those who try to get into close-quarter range. She also uses summons, normally in combination with Hold Person or Hold Monster to take out other people. This tendency to like watching others be torn apart is why she also tends to place Crown of Madness on someone if she is faced with multiple enemies. She also has some very heavy-hitting spells like Disintegrate, which she usually uses if she wants to kill someone immediately.

Basically, if you want to take out Mizora, your best bet is to immobilize her and ensure her magic is used up. Mizora is the quintessential glass canon: She can dish out a lot of damage, but one hard hit and she is out for the counting.

[spinningbuster98]

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles Ending: Y'got duped Chuckles!

Lava Reef has issues with how often it likes to pelt you with fire but having a Fire Shield can mitigate this a lot. Honestly a bigger issue is the fact that the level constantly has you stop because of those enemies disguised as rocks but other than that it’s solid and with the most distinctions between its two acts

Sky Sanctuary is not my favorite but it’s pretty cool what with its theme of ascension as you’re chasing the Death Egg, the call backs to the Sonic 1 and 2 bosses which gives this a sense of finality as the last of the Mega Drive trilogy and if you’re playing as Tails you can just skip most of this stage and all the boss fights except the last

The Death Egg is, aesthetically, my least favorite of the 16 bit final stages. The first act is nice with that Death Star inspired background but the Earth in the background of Act 2 looks ugly! It has no visible landmasses, only clouds that even look blurry! However gameplay wise it is the most balanced final stage so far, being much more thought out than the liked of Metropolis and Metallic Madness. It even has a gravity room that has you bouncing around everywhere and....die sometimes when the screen scrolls too quickly....did the game process too much blast there? Oh well that’s for another video...

The battle against Eggman’s mech is pretty simple and much easier than the one in Sonic 2, but still very memorable and climactic due to its multiple phases, the music and the very menacing design...which actually led me to some observation on this game’s artstyle but I’ll handle those at a later time. (also that last phase where you have to stop Eggman from escaping is cheap because on your first time you won’t know that the floor will immediately stop crumbling upon landing that last hit which will probably lead you to fall as the screen abruptly stops scrolling)

Doomsday Zone is basically a borderline interactive cutscene, hell once you reach the second phase you pretty much only have to mash buttons and that’s it. It’s style over substance...that I am 100% fine with because the game earned this moment. For all intents and purposes you’ve already fought the final boss, this is just the cherry on top, you get cool visuals and a cool setup combined with one of the best tracks on the Mega Drive! The only criticism I have is that the game doesn’t really tell you that you have to mash buttons in order to accellerate, which made 7 year old me extremely confused and unable to beat this at first

One of the most memorable aspects of this game is the way it tells its story. Now the story itself is pretty standard fare for 90s platformers, it’s barely any different from the previous games’, but it’s the WAY it is presented that makes it so special. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any other platformer of this era utilize quick in-game cutscenes that don’t interrupt the gameplay to tell a story. Stuff like the act transitions or Knuckles figuring out the truth or him looking on as Sonic and Tails make their leave with a small smile on his face gives the game so much more character, and that’s without going into Knuckles’ own side! (which is coming next, don’t worry!)

In fact I’d go as far as to say that Sonic 3 & Knuckles actually has better indirect storytelling than Super Metroid! I love that game as much as this one, but I never understood what people meant when they say that it has unmatched background storytelling, because Super Metroid doesn’t really have much of that, it mostly has background LORE, like the Wrecked Ship being implied to be a derelict ship that brought Zebes’ Chozo on the planet, or the Mochtroids being implied to be defective Metroid clones that the Space Pirates threw in Maridia like garbage, but that’s not telling a story that’s implying background lore. The only times when Super Metroid actually tells a silent story is during the intro on the Ceres Colony, when Samus makes planet fall and naturally during the iconic ending sequence. Don’t get me wrong: that ending is so good it blows even Sonic 3′s out of the water with how emotionally impactful it is in spite of its simplicity...but every other time Sonic 3 is much more consistent with the way it keeps presenting its story as something always happening to keep the ball rolling, unlike Super Metroid where there isn’t much of a narrative reason why Samus goes from point A to B. Of course that is because the game is a non-linear adventure game, with something like Fusion serving as an opposite example and something that actually beats out Sonic 3 in terms of indirect storytelling, but still, as far as the 90s are concerned, I believe Sonic 3 to be the king in this aspect

[inventors-fair]

Treats of the Trick: Halloween 2023 Winners! ~

Congratulations to @coolcoolcooltighttightight, @just--a--penguin and @spooky-bard for winning this week's contest!

@coolcoolcooltighttightight — Food of the Fae

So yeah, I've seen Pan's Labyrinth an age and a half ago. Is this related? Probably not one-to-one but it's also a general mythos with some cool implications here. Blue food has always been a fun little work-around for lifegain for me, and I think that this card's pseudo-mixed-messaging prevents it from being too disjointed. Considering that you might want a mix of faerie and non-faerie creatures, one would think that things would get odd in deckbuilding, but I think that the fun of this is both for flavor and for limited, and the success is a meta one.

The creatures becoming faeries helps with faerie buffs, for one. I think that the activated ability should have a reflexive trigger instead of the kinda-replacement you have currently, but that still shows the fun of having the creature then benefit from faeries AND get flying afterwards. The more food, the more faeries you can make! Even a one-off of a bigger creature like a red brute or a green bigthing would be worth it in the shell. And eating the Food to make faeries? Fantastically done; a draft/sealed deck would use this for sure and it would feel right at home in the western European folktale side of things. Really cute and captivating! ... Oh no. It's got me.

@just--a--penguin — Many-Headed Splendor

Lots of these cards were really well-designed this week, but I had a hard time coming to grips with which ones were best balanced and stood out. Rereading it all, I came back to this card and thought about the design mitigations of having a creature's base P/T become 0. But the ETB replacement making it big like that? I think this card is a blast in a set with big-power-little-toughness cards, with counter synergies, Theros-style heroism, and just in general, it's a card that does just enough of everything to be clever.

The trample's what really sells me, honestly. If absolutely nothing else, it gives a creature some extra evasion for that point of damage. Two of these cards on the same creature is especially fun. I can envision a satyr or human or, I dunno, a Dominarian barbarian jumping out from the woods with a whole bunch of psychic heads growing from them, and feeling that expansion with the weakness inherent to the changed self, having it become splendorous in power but then defined by its new hydra nature, is very cool to me as well. We're in the valley of "they could print this card and I'd love it" and that's just a fun place to be.

@spooky-bard — Shadowtwister Crone

My fellow, my captain, my compatriot—I want this to be an uncommon so badly too but I'm almost 100% convinced that it needs to be a rare. But I don't know. I don't know! It's creepy and spooky and you're making a nightmare out of a scarecrow and I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. Remembering other effects similar to this...I can think of, uh, one, and I don't remember the name of it. It's insanely powerful and frustrating without proper removal, but ya know what, isn't everything in this damn game? Argh! Menacing scarecrows! I still love this card!

It's a little bit halloweeny, too, and looking through the winners this week, I actually didn't think about the halloween implications until afterwards. The faerie enchantment plays into established mythos, the hydra card is a solid fantasy card-game staple, and now we're more fully into in-world flavortown in a way that's oppressive on-board and a singular story that's... Heck, I dunno, I'm losing words for precisely what I'm trying to say here about how these cards feels different from each other in unique ways and why this card is a particularly emotion-driven one. Which is a good thing. You took a pushed piece of board presence and gave it a standard but effective creepy air. Perhaps I love the scarecrow and the infrequent kindred nature of those crow-scarin' sons of witches. Perhaps it's the way this woman turns things her scarecrows into nightmares and your creatures into shadows. I think you just nailed a bunch of good pieces together and I'm feeling the heat, so to speak. Is that so wrong? Is that helpful? Is she standing right behind me?

More to come~ @abelzumi

[king-dra]

i had an interesting idea for a lancer mech today but im not sure how viable it is, im gonna put the details under a readmore and if you want to leave feedback please do

so the general idea is that it's a frame designed around utilizing and enhancing Line attacks, one of the license ideas i had would be a Line energy damage rifle where you can choose a point along it's aoe and "split" the line, with an offshoot that has halved range that travels perpendicular to the original line of fire, gaining Heat per enemy hit as a trade-off

the other main idea i had would be an Integrated weapon that takes the form of a pair of large shoulder cannons, which can be used as normal weapons and, once per scene, can be fired simultaneously as a full action, making two separate Line attacks (with improved range and damage) in any two directions the player chooses

some less concrete license ideas are, in no particular order: a system that allows the mech to convert friendly fire damage into Heat gained, either to yourself or your ally (allowing you to essentially shoot through your friends to hit enemies), something that lets you, like, bend enemy attacks away from you? (i feel like limiting this to just Line attacks would be a little narrow so maybe Line and Blast attacks?) and a weapon mod that would allow Line attacks to also affect enemies that are adjacent to targets hit by a Line

also something that would mitigate the usual "Line attacks only get half bonus damage if more that one target is hit" thing

for classification I guess it would be like, Artillery/Controller, maybe?