#HESS Handling Systems

[mollygomezplanners]

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[ladyinbooks]

Rank your characters according to how strong their immune system is (and also how hard it is on their s/o 😆)

🤣 Thoughts go out to to all s/o's who have to deal with their cold or flu-filled beloveds.

Let's see lovely, anon...

Dan: Has the immune system of a proverbial ox. Very rarely gets sick, and has a high tolerance to pain and discomfort. Living in London has exposed him to a whole range of germs, and he's developed a robust immunity to a lot. When he is unwell, he's not a difficult patient (and Hess is surprisingly good at looking after him). Lysander: Just... weirdly healthy. No one can quite work out why, but he doesn't tend to get sick too often. On the rare occasion he is unwell - immediate reversion to flopping dramatically in his bed, because he is dying. (He's not used to being ill and he doesn't like it, but it's also a shameless excuse to get people to dote on him.) Not too difficult to handle, as long as he's being gently fussed over, in which case he's thrilled. (This usually results in Aubrey moving into his rooms and working from next to Lysander's sick bed and absently petting him, and Retvja spending more time than usual bringing Lysander hot drinks, soups and sternly re-fluffing his pillows.)

Hess: His immune system is made of pretty strong stuff (he's the Antichrist and also a doctor). Doesn't get sick too often, but has been known pre-apocalypse to routinely catch the flu at least once a year (in spite of his annual flu jab). Is a surprisingly obedient patient, if a little irritating because he occasionally tries to correct Dan's care from a medical perspective.

Samiel and Jay: Pretty equal - they occasionally pick things up, but how they react to it is pretty different. Jay just wants to be left alone to quietly recuperate (which Samiel dislikes intensely, so it's difficult for him to just leave Jay alone), whereas Samiel would very much like some company, please and thank you. (He's not... difficult, per se, but equally he needs Jay to be there for him, especially when he's feeling particularly low.)

Aubrey: The literal worst. Terrible immune system, but more than that - a terrible patient. Refuses to take to his sick bed, because he 'can handle it' (he cannot handle it), and there's too much that needs doing. Disregards all medical advice and keeps working. Pushes himself too hard (one day I will write about his recovery on Hossith post-Lysander murder attempt), and often ends up becoming worse as a result. This is extremely stressful for Lysander, who veers between begging, pleading, bossing, threats towards medical professionals and outright 'picking Aubrey up and carrying him off' in order to get him to rest.

[lyledebeast]

Signs (2002)

I've wanted to revisit this film for quite a while, but I was put off because, well, there is Mel Gibson. There is no Jason Isaacs. Joaquin Pheonix is undeniably hot, but he's not evil in this, so I deemed him an unfit substitute. But then I rewatched Braveheart a little over a week ago, and I figured if I could handle that, the Mel Gibson-iest film ever to exist, Signs would give me no trouble.

I want to get the negatives out of the way first. I don't know why animals have such a rough go of it in Mel Gibson's films, but they do: horses in Braveheart and The Patriot and dogs in this one. The main purpose the Hess family's German Shepherds, Houdini and Isabel serve, is as an early warning system for the aliens' presence. I'm not sure why it was necessary for them to both die, but what is more troubling is the complete lack of emotional impact their deaths have on the family. It's especially bewildering given that two members of this family are young children, and one of them kills his dog with a barbecue fork when he attacks the younger one! He looks a little a little sad in the scene immediately following, but the issue never comes up again. It becomes less bewildering that the Hesses forgot about their dead dog when they also forget about the remaining one, locked outside when they bunker down for the alien invasion. I imagine most pet owners who have lost a pet that recently, even under less traumatic conditions, would not let the remaining one out of their sight, especially with impending danger. Maybe the adults would given that their focus is on protecting the kids. The kids would not forget. If you don't want to deal with how kids feel about their pets, don't put pets in your movie!

The other part that stretched credibility to the breaking point for me is the scene where Graham Hess takes a wide array of dinner orders from his children and brother, ranging from chicken teriyaki to French toast to a cheeseburger with extra bacon, and proceeds to make all the dishes from scratch without making a run to the grocery store. It's not so much that I don't think anyone could do that . . . but Mel Gibson could not do that! The German-American former Lutheran? Episcopalian? Methodist? Presbyterian? priest and father of two who is also a famer character he plays?? Could not do that! Nonsense. Whoever wrote this scene has never made mashed potatoes from scratch in their life. The only believable part of this scene is Hess violently eating mashed potatoes while crying. Now, that's the Mel Gibson I remember!

The final negative has to do with the way in which Hess's journey back to faith involves chalkin up both his son's lifelong debilitating health condition and his wife's brutal death in an automobile accident to "part of God's plan" for saving them from an alien invasion. I guess there was nothing God could do to, I don't know, prevent the aforementioned alien invasion? All God could do about it was make your family members suffer??? Okay. The theology is a little weird, but no weirder I suppose than Father Widower being subjected to a check-out girl's confession when he is no longer a practicing priest.

All this aside, the things the film does well it does very, very well indeed. The relationship between the two brothers is hilarious; this is the only Gibson film of the three I've seen recently where his character is the butt of the jokes. Merrill (Joaquin Phoenix) is the younger brother, and his life is clearly not living up to the expectations he had as a minor league baseball player. He's in a prime position to be the subject of some meanspirited humor, but that never happens. Instead, we have him trying to coach Graham on how to act crazy and angry while Graham insists he cannot do that and then proves himself right! It's particularly funny considering that Gibson had made a career by this point of playing angry and unhinged characters. The humor is at his expense as much as Hess's.

The most enjoyable part of Signs, though, is the relationship between Hess and his children, played by Abigail Breslin and Rory Culkin. I'm going to have to write another post to tease out a comparison between this relationship and the one another Gibson characters has with, ahem, a somewhat larger number of children, but there's something about the intimacy of touch and language that occurs among these characters that is both touching and resonant. There is no doubt that these characters love each other, and this is most evident, ironically, when Hess's son tells him "I hate you" in one scene, and then Hess repeats these words to God while holding his son during an asthma attack. For me, that is the one piece of theology that hits the mark for me while other elements go so wildly astray. I actually wanted more screentime for Hess and his children, and I definitely never thought I'd be saying that about a Gibson character!

Overall, I had a lot of fun with this movie, and I'm sure it won't be another 18 or so years before I see it again. It wouldn't surprise me if I watch it again later this month!

[processzine-org]

🪑 New Arrival: Process as Pull

A mid-century teak credenza. BHF shop. Local. Underpriced. Unplanned. Perfect.

I didn’t go looking for a sideboard. I went looking for a home — for the Dual 505, the Dentons, the Rotel RX-150A. But this one found me first.

Spotted it online, just a few miles away. No brand, no story, no hype. But the grain, the handles, the stance — it resonated. BHF shop (heart). From someone else's life. It had already lived. Now it would live here.

What began as a practical impulse became a 3-part feature-in-waiting for Process Zine #00:

Part I — Process as Pull

What started as a need for a platform became a lesson in following feeling. The audio kit wasn’t complete until it had a vessel. The vessel wasn’t complete until it had a purpose. This is how process moves: through the unseen, unplanned, intuitive magnetism of what feels right.

Part II — In Case of Silence, Press 1

The collection process revealed it all. eBay. Phone call. I can’t use the phone. WhatsApp. Fake human. Emojis and automation. The digital world still demands analogue behaviour — especially if you’re deaf, APD, or outside the system's assumptions. Connection still depends on voice. On hearing. On translating yourself.

"The digital age was meant to level the field. But every interface still assumes you can hear."

Part III — The Memory of Wood

This credenza isn’t dead. It’s silent. Scarred. Saturated. Tempered by the weight of years and presence. Wood listens. Holds vibration. Retains energy. In monistic idealism, all things are mind expressed as matter. So what if this teak remembers? Not as data. But as resonance. As soul.

"That is home. That is happiness." – Hermann Hesse

More to come once it arrives.

📷 Will document the preservation (not perfection), the signal paths, the soul of the surface. 📼 May run video through CRT. Fax the wood grain. 🔌 And map the mess of converters needed to bridge analogue/digital — a metaphor for everything else.

[amjons]

HESS Automated Handling Systems | TOPWERK Handling Systems | Hess Machine Australia | Bliss and Reels

HESS automated handling systems from Bliss and Reels provide precision and efficiency for your manufacturing needs.

[josefavomjaaga]

Marshal Brune in Hamburg, 1807

A Walter Vogel, in his 1913 book on "Die Hansestädte und die Kontintentalsperre" ("The Hanseatic Cities and the Continental System") also has a theory on why Napoleon’s decrees regarding English goods in 1807 were not particularly effective from the very beginning:

The key to this lax handling is not hard to find. When Napoleon appointed Marshal Brune as governor of the Hanseatic cities in place of Mortier at the end of January 1807, he had set the fox to keep the geese. Brune, according to the Emperor's later words, "an undaunted robber", was in cahoots with Hesse, the city commander Lallemand, the French consul La Chevardière etc. and made the Hamburgers pay dearly for evading the Napoleonic decrees. There can be no doubt about his corruptibility after the detailed report of de Tournon, who was sent to Hamburg to supervise the execution of the blockade. The amount of money that the commerce deputation gave Brune is stated to be 400,000 francs; in total, it spent 565,159 francs on bribing French officials from November 1806 to February 1807.

(To be fair: As Brune had only become governor in January, parts of that sum must have been invested under Mortier already.)

If Brune really collected such a lion's share, the other people on the bribe were real bargains. And if this was still worthwhile for the merchants of the Hanseatic cities, it's easy to see what kind of profits were possible with these goods.

As the author notes appreciatively:

You have to hand it to Brune that for that money he did his utmost to render the blocking decree ineffective. […] Wherever possible, the customs officers' activities were made more difficult or even obstructed. [...] In the meantime, of course, smuggling was carried out with the greatest convenience.

The discovery of these things resulted in Brune being recalled on 23 July 1807.

Which may also explain why Brune suddenly found himself in disgrace around that time.

[symptoms-syndrome]

🎱, 💬? (hope these are okay! some of them seemed a bit too intrusive)

DW anon, I am very comfortable declining to answer questions ha ;;; I wouldn't share something if I didn't want to.

🎱 - Does your system have any spiritual or idealogical beliefs?

We're working on becoming Jewish, and have been for...honestly an embarrassingly long time. Longer than most other people who started the process with me. I just want to make sure I'm super ready I guess, plus I had obvious health stuffs preventing me from doing as much as I'd like. Diff parts have diff feelings about it but I feel Judaism allows for that flexibility without making me feel bad or guilty about not being 100% gung-ho about it 100% of the time.

Ideologically we struggle to put a fine pin on where we stand beyond vaguely leftist. Our ideals generally fall in the same directions but we often disagree about how to get there or whether those ideals are realistic. We're prison abolitionists, we believe in mutual aid, we do our best to contribute to our communities as much as we can in the best ways we can. We're actually very active in that regard. I won't go into a ton of detail beyond saying we are very active in our local organizing scenes and activist circles (and thus have a lot of salty opinions about them -_- they can rly be Hell On Earth sometimes LMAO, not to mention being frequently discordant with a lot of online discourses.)

💬 - How does your system cope with difficult situations?

Dissociating LMAO

This is something we differ a lot with. Depending on the nature of the situation some parts might be more drawn to front than others, but ultimately it does often feel beyond our control. Sometimes I really think Hess should or will handle a situation and Seba shows up instead to handle it wildly differently and it's like. Why did that even happen.

For short term distress, sometimes I'll get really triggered and it'll just be a trauma-stuck part at the wheel :( which is no fun for anybody.

Longer term issues are generally the chance for ANPs to handle some part of it since like, we can't all dissociate away for too too long. Some parts like Tomas gets super absorbed into work (housework or work work,) Seba likes to bitch (his words) and I like to distract myself with video games or other hobbies. I know a couple parts that take long walks or try to socialize more when they're stressed out. Hess is remarkably good at being extremely diplomatic and calm. I'm sure I seem even more erratic than usual when I'm very stressed.

[feeling-uncomfy]

This is for u @trademarked-but-not-really do with it what you will :D

There is a blood warning, just a heads up!

Also, Hawks platonically calling Tokoyami baby bird gives me serotonin —

"Goodbye, sir." Tokoyami waved from the front door of Hawks's agency. The sun was setting slowly, the sky was a warm orange colour. Hawks grinned and shot a feather to bump his interns shoulder, hands occupied. "Dont forget to text when you get back to the dorms, okay?" Tokoyami let's out a huff but nods and walks out of the building. Hawks sighs, another day done.

The other sidekicks left in an orderly fashion, each getting the paperwork finished relatively easily, so Hawks was left alone after a half hour. He sighed and looked down at the paperwork left unfinished.

It was his, so Hawks had no excuse to not have it done. Plus, the commission had been on his ass recently regarding his lack of monthly check-ins, which annoyed the winged hero. Why should he still have to answer to them? Hawks huffed and sat down, prepared to sit there and get it done.

Until there was a loud bang at the door.

Hawks sprang up. He had just closed up, why was someone there? He left his office and walked down the hall. He was about to tell whoever was there to piss off, but what he was met with made him freeze.

"Tokoyami?! What—?" Hawks walked up to the door, where Tokoyami was hunched heavily over it, clearly trembling. He didnt look up when Hawks approached, which worried him. "Kid? What's going on?"

Hawks opened the glass door, and Tokoyami fell through. Hawks let out a shout of alarm and picked his intern up, and set him on his feet. "Kid...?" Tokoyami still hadn't responded, his hands were clamped down on his beak, shielding it. Hawks couldn't help the confused expression rise on his face.

"What happened? Answer me, kiddo." He went to touch Tokoyami's beak, but the teen jerked out of his grip, and swayed dangerously on his feet. Hawks stared. It was like he couldn't stand straight.

"What happened? Answer me, kiddo." He went to touch Tokoyami's beak, but the teen jerked out of his grip, and swayed dangerously on his feet. Hawks stared. It was like he couldn't stand straight.

"Kid, I need to see your face, can you do that?" Hawks asked softly, moving closer. Tokoyami let out a pained noise in the back of his throat, but moved one hand. Hawks inhaled sharply. There was blood coating his hand, and it looked like the flow hadn't stopped.

Hawks was immediately put on edge. "Tokoyami, who did this." His voice had lost all hospitality, and Tokoyami scrunched up, clearly taken aback by the dramatic change. Hawks asked again, more urgently this time. Tokoyami couldn't get the words out.

"Did— didnt know what to—" Tokoyami shut his eyes tight again, his whole body tensed as another load of pain shot through his head. It was enough to make him stumble again. Hawks caught him easily, and moved him to the couch. Hawks didnt like how slurred and messed up his interns speech had become.

"Right, stay here, I'll go get you a first aid kit, okay? We'll fix this." Tokoyami didnt react. Hawks got worried. "Kid? Open your eyes, kid" Tokoyami's eyes opened slowly. They were glazed over and lidded. Hawks cussed. "Okay, okay. I'll be right back. Try stay awake for me." Tokoyami's eyes shut.

Shit. Did Hawks need to go to the hospital? Maybe? He should ask Eraserhead? No, the last time he asked about bird related things, Eraser said 'Hawks you're supposed to be the bird expert here.' and hung up on him. So no homeroom teacher. Maybe Dark Shadow would come out and give him answers.

Speak of the devil, Dark Shadow came round the corner. He didnt say anything, but turned and went back the way he came. Confused, Hawks followed. Tokoyami had moved from the couch to the ground. Hard, judging by the fact that the tremors had gotten worse.

"Fuck! Okay, I'm back, come on, up you come." Hakws gently moved Tokoyami to the couch again and opened the first aid kit. Tokoyami sank boneless into the plush couch, and his eyes shut again. Hawks slowly moved to peel his interns hands away from his face.

They didnt budge at first. "Come on kiddo, this'll make it hurt less, promise." Hawks coaxed gently. Tokoyami shuddered as both hands were placed on his lap. Hawks stared at the mess. It was hard to see where the blood was coming from, but there seemed to be a nasty gash across somewhere.

Hawks decided to ease his kid into it by starting at his hands. "Do you know what happened?" Hawks asked gently, pulling out a cleaning kit and wiping the red off Tokoyami's hands. His intern tried once again to get the words out, but it came out garbled and wrong. Dark Shadow came out, resting on Tokoyami's shoulder. "He cant talk properly." The shadow explained quietly, and Hawks nodded, shoving his anger down.

"Can you tell me what happened then? I really need answers here." Hawks was only partially frustrated at the lack of answers he was getting. Dark Shadow grew considerably in size. "Some asshole who doesn't like people with animal type quirks jumped us." Tokoyami's hands started shaking violently as Hawks shot up, wings flaring out.

"Are you fucking kidding me—?!" Hawks yelled. The first aid fell to the ground with a clang, and Dark Shadow flared up more. Hawks took a breath, calming himself. He picked the kit back up and silently cleaned the rest of Tokoyami's blood off of his hands. Tokoyami's hands still shook on Hawks's grip, he realised.

They came to the beak. "How much does it hurt? On a scale of one to ten." Hawks tried to gauge the reaction of the teen, reaching out. Tokoyami shifted back, shrugging. Dark Shadow answered before Tokoyami had a chance to. "He wants to tell you it's not that bad, but it hurts a lot. A solid nine point five." Hawks bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling again.

Tokoyami looked betrayed, but nodded in confirmation. Hawks exhaled slowly. "Okay, we'll I'm gonna give you something for the pain, and then I'll treat you. That sound good?" Tokoyami looked uncertainly over at the meds. More specifically, the needle. It took Hawks a second to realise why.

"...You dont like needles?"

A teen shook his head. That's all Hawks needs. He sits quietly, thinking. How was Hawks supposed to do this? Tokoyami starts opening his beak, but immediately makes a noise of pain and closes it. Dark Shadow doesnt translate.

Tokoyami tried again, slower and much more muffled than usual. "You... dont have to worry... I can—" He cuts himself off with a wince of pain, hand flying up to his beak again. Hawks takes his hand away, gripping tight. "Its okay, dont push yourself."

Hawks looks around for a distraction. If he can manage to get Tokoyami's mind off of the needle situation, Hawks might be able to inject him without a problem. He's used those drugs on his sidekicks and himself before, and they work fast, and are completely safe, a bonus. Plus, considering how small his intern is, Tokoyami should be put straight out, the stuff is strong.

Hawks's eyes land on the T.V. and he grins. He turns it on and flicks through the channels. Someone catches his attention. "Hey, isnt that Eraserhead?" He stops on a talk show. There, in all his glory, is the class 1A homeroom teacher. "He doesn't look very happy." Hawks laughs. Tokoyami is staring, seemingly occupied.

Hawks let's him watch for a little longer, setting up the needle. Dark Shadow noticed, but said nothing and continued to watch. Eventually, Hawks finally deemed Tokoyami distracted enough and quickly injected the needle into his interns arm. Tokoyami visible jolted, but the drugs worked fast and Tokoyami fell quiet, and slumped against the couch after a minute.

Hawks sighed. "Sorry kid..." Hawks turned him over, and got to work quietly. Tokoyami's beak was fragile, so Hawks had to work gently. He wiped a considerable amount of blood away and saw it. He wasnt surprised that it hurt. There was a large gash sliced over the right side of his kids beak. It was a messy cut, so obviously Tokoyami had either been moving or the person had shaky hands. Or both.

Either way, Hawks wasnt letting them away with this. He was gonna hunt the fucker down himself if that's what it took. He cleaned it up and was going to bandage it when Tokoyami's hand shot out and gripped Hawks's arm tight. Tokoyami's eyes were barely open and it looked like he was completely out of it.

Hawks chucked. "Alright bud, go back to sleep—" Tokoyami cut him off. "Hawkszzzz. There'sss dis guy. Dis guy and he keepssssss..." he trailed off, mumbling nonsense. Hawks stopped. A guy? He must really be out of it. Tokoyami continued. "He keepsss followin' me! Amd I dont know why... hess freaky dough. I domf like it."

Well, now Hawks was concerned. Before he could ask any questions, Tokoyami had gone slack again, his breathing evened out. Hawks didnt think much of it, and just bandaged him up. Hawks sat back with a sigh, looking at his work. Tokoyami was oddly calm, Dark Shadow no where in sight.

Hawks turned off the T.V and got up. He'd have to call Eraserhead once he was finished up with his interview, and judging by the yelling he heard, it wasnt going very well. Hawks looked down at the sleeping teen. He couldn't leave him on the couch, but he didnt want to risk injuring him further by moving him and fucking dropping him, which, knowing Hawks's luck, was a very real possibility.

Hawks decided it would be safer to just grab a blanket and wrap his intern in it. At least he'd be comfy, right? Hawks grabbed the fluffy one he'd seen the kid eye after a rough patrol. Hawks manoeuvred the kid and wrapped him into a mini burrito. Hawks smiled and decided fuck it, the kid was up, might as well move him. He carefully walked down the hall towards the elevator.

He asked himself where he would put the kid. The simple answer was to put him in Hawks's room, but his office was all the way down at the bottom floor. Would Tokoyami be able to handle the elevator if the drugs are still in his system when he woke up? Hawks sighed and brought the paperwork with him, playing the safe game.

Hawks sets his kid in his bed, and does the rest of his work quietly, feathers keeping a close watch on his kid as he sleeps without a problem. Hawks finishes his work and sits back, eyes closing. He drifts off, his feathers still active.

The next morning, his feathers woke him. Tokoyami is moving. Hawks groans and stands up, stretching and walking to his room. Tokoyami is sitting up, hands touching his beak with obvious confusion.

Hawks laughs and pushes his intern back down on the bed. "Go back to sleep, baby bird. It's still early." Tokoyami nods and curls up, still feeling exhausted. Hawks sits himself on the edge of the bed, watching his intern as his chest rises and falls. Hawks gets bored after a while, leaving as his phone buzzes.

Erasurehead? This should be fun. Hawks leaves and puts it on speaker. The angered shout that greets him tells Hawks everything.

"Hawks! You are aware of what a curfew is, correct?" Aziawa yells. He's in class as they speak. The rest of the class is confused. Bakugo rolls his eyes and Mina pokes at Asui and whispers something.

Aziawa continues without a pause. "Because I know damn well that Tokoyami wouldn't break curfew, so where is he? I swear if you tell me he's in hospital again." At this Hawks winced as the class perks up on the other end of the line. "Again?" Midoryia turns to Todoroki, who shrugs.

Hawks laughs. "Well, you'll be glad to know we didnt have to bring him this time, but—" Aziawa cuts him off. "Then why isn't he in class?!" Hawks sighs. "Some guy jumped him on his way to the train station, okay? They hit him hard, too."

The class grows nervous as Aziawa stays silent. Whatever Hawks had said must have either shocked him or caught him off guard. "Are you serious? Why—?" Hawks answers with a shrug. "Dark Shadow said something about animal-based quirks."

"Really? Just because of his appearance—" the class falls quiet again. Kirishima shakes Denki's shoulder. "They cant attack someone like that, right? Just because of his face?" Kirishima whispers, and Denki shrugs. Shouji's fists clench. He's delt with more than enough of those types of people in his life. Iida was chopping angrily, and Bakugo looked pissed.

Aziawa is still ranting. He's gotten so angry he couldn't hold his phone, in fear of breaking it. So it went on speaker as he went on a tangent. Hawks finds a good place to cut in. His voice rings loudly in the class.

"Hey, I'm just as angry at you. But the kid is trying to sleep. Maybe keep it down?" Hawks chuckles darkly. "Not like he'll be able to voice his complaints, though."

Aziawa immediately regrets it, but he asks why. "The motherfucker slashed his beak. It'll probably scar, it was deep." Hawks peeked into the room. Tokoyami was still asleep, turned away from the door. Hawks closed the door softly and tuned back into the conversation. Aziawa was yelling. There were other voices yelling, as well.

Aziawa's voice rang clear. "Sorry, Hawks. Gonna have to cut this short. Bring him back around when he wakes up, Recovery Girl will help him. Bakugo! Dont you dare—! Fuck!" The line went dead.

Hawks laughed. Looks like the class knew. He turned to go down the hallway, but stopped when something pulled at his jacket. He turned to see Tokoyami standing, albeit wobbly. The blanket Hawks had wrapped around him hung on his shoulders, and Tokoyami's body disappeared under it.

Hawks smiled softly. "Hey there, baby bird. What's going on?" Hawks moved to support him as the teen almost went down. Slowly, they moved to the kitchen. With Dark Shadow's help, Tokoyami sat on the counter, still wrapped in the blanket. Dark Shadow faced Hawks. "He's wondering how to eat. We're hungry."

Hawks blinked. "I hadn't thought about that...." He trailed off. "We'll ask Recovery Girl when we see her. You wanna go now or do you wanna wait?" Tokoyami shrugged. Hawks shook his head. "Well, let's re-bandage your beak first, then we'll go, sound good?"

Tokoyami nodded and moved to stand. It took a minute, but they got there. Hawks took off the bandages. The wound looked as ugly as ever. "Hey, what did the guy look like?" Tokoyami thought about it. He turned towards the T.V and his face dropped. He pointed at the screen.

Hawks looked. Someone had been murdered late last night. Ouch, it looked brutal. There was something familiar about the wounds though...

"That looks like..." Hawks stared at the wound he was cleaning. "Oh. Holy shit." Hawks snapped his head up, looking for confirmation. Tokoyami nodded, a little too hard, and hissed in pain. Hawks steadied him. "Wait. If the wound is so similar, then..." He turned the volume up.

"The only suspects we have at the moment are the league of villains, and that's because of the dust left behind. Also scorch marks left on the victim's back..."

Hawks's phone lit up as a message came through. He checked it. It was from an unknown number, which meant it was from Dabi.

"You're welcome." Was all it said.

Hawks typed out his reply. He asked why the fuck he would do something like that. Dabi responded with: 'Dude was on our hit list anyways. He should learn to think twice before slicing a league member so close to Shigaraki.'

This left Hawks confused. Dark Shadow said that the guy didnt like people with animal-based quirks, so it would have to be their driver, but the last part....

Oh well. He's dead now. That's all that matters.

He took Tokoyami to Recovery Girl, and she did all she could. Within a week it had scarred, much to Tokoyami's annoyance. He could talk properly, which was okay. Before he got used to it though, he had a lisp. Hawks thought it was adorable. A lisp plus head tilts?? Hawks's intern was the cutest, no doubt.

Hawks grinned as Tokoyami waved goodbye two weeks later. "Make sure you get home this time, okay?" Tokoyami sighed and flipped Hawks off, being the last person to leave.

Hawks laughed. Hopefully this time there would be no unexpected attacks on his intern. Hawks walked to his office and stared at the pile of paperwork left unfinished.

"Son of a bitch—"

This ended on a funny note, though I wanted to make a point on quirk discrimination. With everything that's happening in America right now, its important to say

Black lives matter. They have mattered all along, and they will always matter.

But I do hope you enjoyed! If you wanna see anything else, just ask! I'm always open to suggestions :D

[metaphysicalpistolsoraclemine]

Church of Rome, Black Nobility and Vatican City

In retaliation to the Yeshua Mission, the Orion Group chose to invade the territories near the 5th dimensional stargate, by infiltrating this central region of Italy, in order to lay the foundation for what would become the Church of Rome, the Papacy and the Vatican City. This began the invasion of the Black Sun nonhuman entities into the region, which are the groups who originally built the Catholic religious control mechanism and then infiltrated the Jesuit military order. This historical infiltration of the Jesuits at its top Supreme General position, by the negative aliens in the Orion Group, greatly plagues human society today. By combining these two NAA infiltrated organizations over time, the Vatican and Jesuit Order, these would become the merciless planetary controller mechanism for the worldwide political banking cartels.  It is the center point of the satanic pillars used for the perpetuation of global blood sacrifice offerings, which are used for summoning demonic spirits and satanic alien forces that actually enter this realm through the stargate that exists under Vatican City.

From about the 13th century, several Northern Italian aristocratic families infiltrated by the Khazarians much earlier, began to develop into the highest of the ruling satanic elites through the accumulation of vast wealth in the banking and merchant businesses. These ruling elites found their wealth exploding through satanic practices of blood and child sacrifice and began to settle into the areas close to the power center of the Vatican. These wealthy Roman aristocratic families are the main lineages of the Black Nobility and Papal bloodlines whose ancestors include: the House of Sfroza, Visconti, Savoy Genovese, Torlania, Colonna, Massimo, Aldobrandini, Doria, Orsini, Farnese, Pallavicini, Ruspoli, Hapsburg, Hesse and Rothchild.  

Additionally, the Jesuit Order was being structured into a male only secret military operation from about 500-years ago, which began to infiltrate these same aristocratic lineages for gaining power and control in geo-politics. Over time, the Jesuit secret oath for complete obedience to the Supreme General, who eventually became the Black Pope, progressed considerably when the secret order became influential and in full control of the obscene amount of wealth hidden in the Vatican underground vaults.  The Jesuit control over the Vatican institution further evolved into the generation of many other subsidiary organizations for handling assorted operations, such as the Military Order of Malta, along with the creation of various central banks, secret societies and cults. Many of these subsidiary organizations, run by the high-ranking Jesuits, were the driving force behind the creation of the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund, the World Trade Organization and NATO after World War II. These are the “globalist” organizations that were put in place, after the largest and most recent human holocaust, to fully protect the monopolies represented in the international business interests that promote the same anti-human agendas of these bloodlines.

The Black Nobility, through its Jesuit connections, put fascist dictator Benito Mussolini in power who established the Vatican as a sovereign nation, through the Lateran Treaty of 1929, ending decades of struggle between the Italian state and the Papacy. Following the conclusion of the Lateran Treaty in 1929, the Black Nobility were given dual citizenship in Italy and Vatican City. This gave the Black Nobility full unrestrained access and unchecked power to use the Vatican as their covert business entity, installing the Black Pope and forming the Holy See Corporation, while shrouded in the veils of secrecy and fronted by the White Pope and those wearing holy robes, purporting to be “men of God” to the religiously devoted. A top objective of the Vatican mafioso control, was accumulating and concealing vast amounts of wealth from global criminal activities when deposits were made in the Swiss and Vatican bank accounts. These funds are used for money laundering and funding the overall objectives of the One World Order  in favor of these satanic ruling elites.

It is rumored that many prominent political figures across the globe have bank accounts with unfathomable wealth earmarked for funding and carrying out the objectives of the Satanic Council and the Black Nobility, whom are enmeshed within every political, financial and governmental decision that greatly impacts the state of the nations across the globe. Recent news reveals that Switzerland had bought the rights of the company connected to the current “back door” voting system used globally, as well as evidence of signed affidavits and testimony given about Italy’s involvement to manipulate recent elections in the United States. This goes straight up to the Black Nobility, Jesuits and the Vatican, which illustrates this point perfectly.

The Vatican remains a massive power and global control center for running the One World Order pedophilia operations for Satanic rule, throughout the Controller Pillars of Society, which is overseen and managed by the Black Nobility and bloodline families. This particular satanic agenda goes back to 2,000 years ago, when the Black Sun Draconians retaliated by infiltrating the Greek sacred texts and Rome to build the Church of Rome. Thus, mock the Christos Mission and spread their violent religious rhetoric through the mind control worshipping of the false Jesus crucified in a satanic blood sacrifice.

The Vatican City in Rome is one of the NAA Black Sun entity’s main control bases and global headquarters. It is the spiritual center used for carrying out the satanic ritual and operations for gaining wealth and material power for the globalist Luciferian bloodline families and funding their satanic agendas. The top power echelon in the Vatican is secretly working with the international criminal cabal government groups, the Jesuit military orders and the luciferian bloodline families –together called the “globalists”– to carry out blood sacrifice rituals and child trafficking in order to nourish the satanic forces on the planet.

These elaborate satanic rituals are meticulously well organized to directly communicate and interact with the anti-Christ forces, mainly nonhuman entities. Through black magic sorcery, human sacrifice and blood harvesting, they receive detailed instructions from the off planet anti-Christ forces, to carry out the next moves for their One World Order agenda. These black magic rituals, with child sacrifices, go back to the NAA invasion and the introduction of the Kabbalah teachings, when the Artificial Tree of Life and demonic hierarchies were presented in Babylon by the Saturnian blood worshippers. This spiritual template is still being used by Satanists and Luciferians worldwide, it is their religion. Some believe they are the descendants of superior alien Gods and through the practice of blood ritual sacrifices, it gives them the means by which to contact demonic entities and their spiritual master, Satan or Lucifer, and carry out his wishes. Satanists and Luciferians are masterful deceivers who cloak themselves in many assorted names and labels, which go way beyond the Church of Rome, choosing their disguise to hide behind many different religions, atheism or secret societies. This makes them appear to be separate groups, but they are actually running the world under the same unifying umbrella of hidden satanic practices.

Since the Atlantian Cataclysm, these practicing satanists with hybridized bloodlines, sponsored by the NAA, have been enslaving humanity through instigating never-ending wars, racial discrimination, poverty, and blood sacrifice. Through divide and conquer manipulation tactics and increasing world suffering they maintain control over the human race. The Vatican, along with the draconian infiltration of the trained militants of the Jesuit Order, bring their combined objectives to infiltrate all world governments and cultures with the ultimate goal of achieving global satanism. This includes the implementation of Armageddon software and instigating wars and conflicts in partnership with the NAA. The Jesuits are behind the key soft kill methods being used in the attempt to accelerate the death rate for global depopulation and eugenic models through deploying and weaponizing multiple toxic exposures: GMOs, vaccine injections, chemtrails, radiation, nuclear and toxic waste “accidents” and the transhumanist agenda.

Continue Learning here... https://energeticsynthesis.com/resource-tools/news-shift-timelines/3675-the-vatican-and-dark-mother

[hadoopcourse]

Spark vs Hadoop, which one is better?

Hadoop

Hadoop is a project of Apache.org and it is a software library and an action framework that allows the distributed processing of large data sets, known as big data, through thousands of conventional systems that offer power processing and storage space. Hadoop is, in essence, the most powerful design in the big data analytics space.

Several modules participate in the creation of its framework and among the main ones we find the following:

Hadoop Common (Utilities and libraries that support other Hadoop modules)

Hadoop Distributed File Systems (HDFS)

Hadoop YARN (Yet Another Resource Negociator), cluster management technology.

Hadoop Mapreduce (programming model that supports massive parallel computing)

Although the four modules mentioned above make up the central core of Hadoop, there are others. Among them, as quoted by Hess, are Ambari, Avro, Cassandra, Hive, Pig, Oozie, Flume, and Sqoop. All of them serve to extend and extend the power of Hadoop and be included in big data applications and processing of large data sets.

Many companies use Hadoop for their large data and analytics sets. It has become the de facto standard in big data applications. Hess notes that Hadoop was originally designed to handle crawling functions and search millions of web pages while collecting information from a database. The result of that desire to browse and search the Web ended up being Hadoop HDFS and its distributed processing engine, MapReduce.

According to Hess, Hadoop is useful for companies when the data sets are so large and so complex that the solutions they already have cannot process the information effectively and in what the business needs define as reasonable times.

MapReduce is an excellent word-processing engine, and that's because crawling and web search, its first challenges, are text-based tasks.

We hope you understand Hadoop Introduction tutorial for beginners. Get success in your career as a Tableau developer by being a part of the Prwatech, India’s leading hadoop training institute in btm layout.

Apache Spark Spark is also an open source project from the Apache foundation that was born in 2012 as an enhancement to Hadoop's Map Reduce paradigm . It has high-level programming abstractions and allows working with SQL language . Among its APIs it has two real-time data processing (Spark Streaming and Spark Structured Streaming), one to apply distributed Machine Learning (Spark MLlib) and another to work with graphs (Spark GraphX).

Although Spark also has its own resource manager (Standalone), it does not have as much maturity as Hadoop Yarn, so the main module that stands out from Spark is its distributed processing paradigm.

For this reason it does not make much sense to compare Spark vs Hadoop and it is more accurate to compare Spark with Hadoop Map Reduce since they both perform the same functions. Let's see the advantages and disadvantages of some of its features:

performance Apache Spark is up to 100 times faster than Map Reduce since it works in RAM memory (unlike Map Reduce that stores intermediate results on disk) thus greatly speeding up processing times.

In addition, the great advantage of Spark is that it has a scheduler called DAG that sets the tasks to be performed and optimizes the calculations .

Development complexity Map Reduce is mainly programmed in Java although it has compatibility with other languages . The programming in Map Reduce follows a specific methodology which means that it is necessary to model the problems according to this way of working.

Spark, on the other hand, is easier to program today thanks to the enormous effort of the community to improve this framework.

Spark is compatible with Java, Scala, Python and R which makes it a great tool not only for Data Engineers but also for Data Scientists to perform analysis on data .

Cost In terms of computational costs, Map Reduce requires a cluster that has more disks and is faster for processing. Spark, on the other hand, needs a cluster that has a lot of RAM.

We hope you understand Apache Introduction tutorial for beginners. Get success in your career as a Tableau developer by being a part of the Prwatech, India’s leading apache spark training institute in Bangalore.

[bgharison]

Which WIP?!

I have about three weeks between classes, my meds and my muse seem to be holding a tentative truce, and I really miss writing.  Wanna help me decide which rabbit hole?  I need to choose one and kind of stick with it.  My goal is to have a rough draft done by  August 19 and then edit during the semester.  (My goal is to start an original work in January 2020, so this is warm-up.)

I do find feedback and enthusiasm both validating and motivating, so if something makes you go “oooooooh” let me know?

Options below:

Option A:  Vaguely Pacific Northwest McDanno AU -- Steve returns from combat to his deceased father’s cabin, Danny is a journalist writing about missing children in the area.  Danny gets too close to the truth.  I only have three paragraphs of this written, but it’s outlined.  Inspired in part by the idea of a bearded Steve and Danny wearing jeans, boots, and scarves. 

(opening) He moved through the house, flicking on one or two lights, somewhat surprised that the electricity hadn’t been long since disconnected.  Since it wasn’t, the well pump still worked and the kitchen sink yielded fresh, cold water.  The aquifers here, in the northwest corner of the country, have the coldest, clearest water of anyplace he’s seen, on this continent or any other.  He cupped a handful of it and gulped greedily.  Even in the dim light, he could tell that the coffee maker had only a faint layer of dust.  It gave him pause, to think that someone had been keeping up the property.  His father must have arranged for a caretaker in his will.  

It didn’t occur to him to test the heat; he simply took off his boots and climbed, fully clothed, under the heavy comforter in the room that has remained unchanged since he left it almost two decades ago.

(random selection)  

“Go away, Danny,” Steve orders.  “I mean it.  Get the hell away from me.”

Danny wipes at the blood, dripping steadily now from his eyebrow, trailing down the side of his face.  His jaw clenches as he squares off against Steve.  “Why?  Because I caught you off guard, didn’t duck fast enough?  Come on, Steve, I know you didn’t mean --”

“That’s the point, Danny!” Steve explodes.  “That’s the fucking point.  Whether I mean it or not, this is what happens.  People get hurt.  The people I care about get hurt.”

“Yeah, is that so?  Well maybe the people I care about get something, too.”

“What?  What, Danny?”

Danny steps into his space and he can feel his own coiled tension reflected right back at him, in the stubborn set of Danny’s shoulders, in the heat radiating off his chest.

“This.”

Steve doesn’t have time to react before Danny’s hands are on him, wrapping around the back of his neck, his hip, pulling him in and down.  He tastes the tang of copper and iron as their lips crash together and for a moment it’s violent, and Steve falls into it.  Violence is familiar.

Option B:  Core Four AU Steve comes back from being presumed dead after the Hesse fiasco in North Korea and opens an acupuncture clinic.  Danny is building a new life on the island after losing his wife.  Steve starts to fall for Danny until he suspects that Danny is keeping a secret involving his little girl.  Kono is exasperated with all of the alphabet agencies that come into play -- CIA, FBI, ATF, and she just wants to know -- WTF?! Outlined but with two possible “reveals” I would need to choose from.  This one also give me an opportunity to play with world-building, because the setting is specific, involving an elaborate tree house, a zip line, and other things that end up getting SEALed in order to protect Grace. 

(There’s this)

“Kono, we are professional health care providers here,” he said.  “No dating clients.  And quit trying to set me up.”

“I’m asking for myself,” Kono said.  She beamed at him, a flash of white teeth and dimples.  “He’s adorable.  Like a . . . like a fluffy little lion cub.  I want to take him home and just --”

“Okay then, Kono, let’s get --” Steve glanced down at his schedule -- “Mr. Wilson into a treatment room.”

“Can I get him to put on a gown?” Kono asked.  

Steve looked at her sternly as she blinked in mock innocence.

(And this)

Then again, Danny wasn’t most people.  He noticed everything.  Too many years of training and practice to stop now -- besides, the stakes had never been higher, and his powers of observation, of reading people, of seeing through disguises and lies, might just be the edge that would keep him and his daughter alive until this mess was over.

He pulled off the road onto the narrow gravel drive leading back to the beleaguered property that was not only his cover, but his home -- his fortress.  He pulled up to the gate and keyed in one of two codes -- the one that verified that all was well, and that he was not under duress.  The gate opened smoothly, its deliberately aged and tenuous appearance belying that it was part of the newly installed state-of-the-art defense.    

The drive was long, curving around dense areas of vegetation that still hinted at previous deliberate planning and careful attention.  With a bit of work, the grounds would once again be functional and attractive.  His Camaro handled the gentle incline with ease, and soon he was pulling into the ground level garage of his home, opening the garage door with another code.  It slid closed behind him, the motion sensors glowing at each other in the dim light.  A third code was entered at the door between the garage and the house, the heavy deadbolt sliding open.  Danny locked the door behind him and reset the alarm.

“You realize that three sets of coded entry is going to be difficult to explain to visitors,” a calm voice said.  The clink of glass on porcelain in the kitchen, along with the scent of rich Kona coffee, was welcome.

(And this)

Steve took the long way home, the windows of his truck rolled down, filling the cab with fresh, fragrant air.  He knew he would never tire of this, never tire of being back home, back on Oahu.  Pulling into the driveway was something that at one point, he was sure he’d never do again -- he’d never take it for granted.  The house itself felt in turn far too empty and far too full of ghosts, but he couldn’t imagine not living here.  He was making peace with both the solitude and the presences he couldn’t quite shake.  When Mary was well enough to be discharged, he would bring her here, where he could watch over her, protect her the way a brother should, care for her like she needed.  He’d drag her out into the sunshine and fresh air.  It would help.  It had to.  

He keyed in the alarm code and slipped inside the still house.  Ignoring the boxes half-packed in his father’s office, gathering dust, he headed for the kitchen.  

Option C:  A case from Danny’s past comes back to haunt the team and threaten the island.  This one is not really outlined.  Possibly gen/case fic, possibly newly McDanno, potentially an OC interest for Steve when the original profiler, who considers this case her one failure, comes to help (because I love playing with OCs and creating better love interests for him than the show manages to do, and I loved the dynamic with Steve and Alicia Brown, and even though I didn’t see it as romantic, I think Steve could fall for someone who is a match for him intellectually and who would understand what his years in the underbelly of Naval intel did to his psyche, and I love the ‘brilliant, mentally tough but physically vulnerable person matched with the brilliant, physically tough but emotionally vulnerable person” trope, sue me).  And I love exploring Danny’s back stories and volatility and the reasons that his marriage failed because his job came first.  We would see a darker Danny in this and that intrigues me. I might also jump the timeline for the first time (for me) put this post season-4, meaning Junior and Tani instead of Chin and Kono.  

There’s this:

“We called him the Holiday Weekend Killer,” Danny said.  “First body, just like this one, the Tuesday after President’s Day weekend.  We found the next body the day after Easter.  And then another the Tuesday after Memorial Day.  And then we ran ourselves into the ground all through the heat of the summer, got nowhere, and the fourth body showed up the day after Labor Day.  We missed Thanksgiving with our families with nothing to show for it but another dead woman -- this one we had to identify with dental records, because the son of a bitch had four days to torture her.  We took off twenty-four hours, Christmas Eve into Christmas Day, might as well, since we had no fucking leads.  He had almost a month with that poor girl, college student, aged out of the foster system, so no one fucking noticed she was missing until classes started again in January.  Christmas Day, no one even fucking knew that beautiful --”

 Danny broke off with a muttered curse and walked out of the room, pushing the doors open with such force that they struck the walls behind, the sound echoing as Steve and Max stood in shocked silence.

 “Give us a few, yeah, Max?” Steve said quietly.  

He caught up with Danny in the basement locker room, the soles of his shoes sticking out of the stall where he was retching over the toilet.  Steve grabbed a length of paper toweling and wet it at the sink.

Danny staggered out of the stall and silently accepted Steve’s offering, wiping his face and mouth.  He balled up the toweling and dropped it into the wastebasket, then rinsed his mouth at the sink, hands trembling on the faucet.

Steve waited, arms crossed, leaning against the door of the locker room.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” he said, when Danny finally turned off the water, leaning over the sink, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  “We’ll all understand if you need to sit this one out.”

It happened so fast that Steve flinched in surprise, Danny’s hand lashing out and shattering the mirror in front of him.

“Sit it out?  Why bother?  This fucking animal already destroyed my marriage, almost cost me my baby girl, not to mention the pile of pretty young corpses we processed.  Processed lots of bodies, Steve, but precious little evidence.  I’ll have them FedEx it to us, shouldn’t take much to send one fucking file box full of nothing useful,” Danny exploded.  “Sit this one out?  What, just do paperwork while I watch you and Chin run yourselves into the ground, while we all try to pretend that we aren’t worried sick about the possibility of this guy getting his hands on Kono?  While Max stacks up bodies in the morgue?  Bodies that no one claims?  Because this guy, this guy, Steve, he knows how to pick his victims.”

“Danny,” Steve sighed.  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.  “Danny, we have -- we have resources here, we can cut through red tape.  If it is the guy --”

“Cigarette burns on the soles of their feet, Steve, do you have any idea --”

Danny stopped short at the flicker of emotion that Steve couldn’t mask quickly enough.  He met Steve’s gaze and held it.

“Yeah,” Steve said.  “We’re going to get this guy, Danny.  Now listen, the first thing we need to know -- is this personal?  With him and you?  Is he here, now, on Oahu, because you’re here?”

[the-telescope-times]

Insulating crust kept cryomagma liquid for millions of years on nearby dwarf planet

The bright spots of Occator Crater shine from the surface of Ceres. Research led by The University of Texas at Austin is helping reveal how the spots formed from cryomagma. Credit: NASA

A recent NASA mission to the dwarf planet Ceres found brilliant, white spots of salts on its surface. New research led by The University of Texas at Austin in partnership with NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) delved into the factors that influenced the volcanic activity that formed the distinctive spots and that could play a key role in mixing the ingredients for life on other worlds.

The volcanoes on Ceres are cryovolcanoes, a type of volcano that forms on planetary bodies with icy shells and that moves salty water known as cryomagma from underground reservoirs to the surface. Scientists think that cryovolcanoes on Jupiter's icy moon Europa could help foster chemical mixing that could make complex molecules needed for life. Learning more about how these volcanoes work on Ceres - which is a simpler geological environment than Europa - could help scientists get a handle on the primary forces that drive their activity.

"Cryovolcanism looks to be a really important system as we look for life," said lead author Marc Hesse, an associate professor at the UT Jackson School of Geosciences. "So we're trying to understand these ice shells and how they behave."

The final version of the research was published online on Feb.8 in the journal Geophysical Research Letters. The research was co-authored by Julie Castillo-Rogez, a planetary scientist at NASA's JPL.

Read more ~ spacedaily.com

[emptymanuscript]

RPG Money

I've hit the next stumbling block for Tripoke :/

The adventure I'm thinking of stealing to start the Tripoke campaign has someone offer $30 as payment to go on the adventure and you can haggle up to $35. All I'm really doing is changing dollars to Hess-Marks, $ → lh. The problem is the same either way. How to convey to players the value of money in the setting? Especially when I both can't go into it inside the text and don't really want to go into an exchange rate of 30lh is about $13k-ish in modern us money. It's essentially average pay for three months work.

I started on a whole write up of the Hess-Mark monetary system... and I just don't want to bother. I really just don't care. Keeping track of player wealth is up there with encumbrance for me, it's just too simulationist for me to enjoy.

SO, what to do instead?

I would prefer players to choose to go on the "cattle drive" (Triceratops Drive) rather than try to work against the drive (though that could be interesting, it cuts out most of the pre-written material) or (much worse) just wait around for a better adventure that I don't have. So I do need some way to convey that the offer is enticing.

I could just give the exchange rate 1lh ≈ 433$ and then proceed to utterly ignore finances.

I could have a wealth score that works like all the other scores in the game. You have X dice and you roll, either stepping up or down. And I could just say that this offer is enough to get you an extra d6 for your wealth. Or I could just say this is enough to up your Prep stat by 1 die, since Prep would be a good indicator of what you have in your pockets.

I could have an independent wealth background based on the Prep Stat (what the character has done to prepare themselves for this eventuality). Wealth is set to an abstract amount, probably either 1 or 0 to start. PCs can afford anything below their wealth stat without repercussion. PCs have to roll to see if they can afford things at their wealth stat - 2 or more successes is the same as if it was below their wealth level, 1 success allows them to buy it but their wealth score goes down, 0 successes means they can't afford it. PC's automatically lose a level if they buy anything rated 1 above their stat. PC's cannot afford anything rated 2 or more above their wealth level.

Or I could do a hexflower... which doesn't seem any better than actually handling the money.

hmmm...

I feel like just doing the Prep stat would be best for play consistency, I just feel like it conveys the worst fictionally. Because then how do I deal with bidding?

Suver offers enough to add 1d6 to your Prep score for three to six months of work. The Virbelim gang offers enough to step up one of your existing die to 1d8 for what they expect to be a few weeks to three months works at most.

Vs.

Suver offers +1 to wealth level and... yeah that won't work. Suver offers +2 to wealth level and Virbelim offers +1. But Suver pays off in 3-6 months while Virbelim pays off in 2-12 weeks.

Vs.

Suver offers +1d6 to Prep and Virbelim offers +1d6 to Overpower. Actually... you know, I like that. It's stated in cash but in parentheses it's a choice.

Suver offers 30lh for 3-6 months work (+1d6 to your Prep score at end of work) getting past Verbilim. You can haggle (Charm roll vs. Suver) to get him up to 35lh (+1d8 to your Prep score at end of work). VERSUS. Virbelim offers 15lh (+1d6 to your Overpower score at end of work) for 2-12 weeks of harassing Suver. You can haggle (Charm roll vs. Virbelim Lieutenant) to get them up to 20lh (+1d8 to your Overpower score at end of work).

Next time someone goes to buy something, it can have a wealth rating to overcome and you just roll Prep.

Which means I can set up a situation to start to show that you roll Prep to buy something to introduce the concept and then Suver can show up and make his offer which will then make sense.

Yep, I'll go with that.

[tehuti88-art]

12/16/22: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Obersturmbannführer (Lt. Col.) Hasso Reinhardt, sans cap (top drawing) and with cap (bottom drawing). He's rather odd. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, he's a white Alsatian (German shepherd). I think I made his nose too small, ah well.

TUMBLR EDIT: Reinhardt is a secondary character whose backstory doesn't play a huge role so far, so what I know is still developing and still very open to change.

A relatively new development is that Hasso Reinhardt is a Junker. He comes from a well-off country family, similar to Louis Dobermann, and similar to the Dobermanns his family is somewhat old fashioned and longs for the "old days" of imperialism and whatnot when their class had meaningful influence. Alas, those times are past. Reinhardt makes do; he meets a lovely young lady and the two grow quite close and, despite his family's grumblings--she's middle class, not very suitable for him--they make plans to marry. His parents hadn't expected this, had figured it was just a temporary fling, so threaten to disown him if he follows through; he defies their threat, however, and says if that's what they want, well, that's what they'll get. He enlists in the military and heads off into the Great War, looking forward to the day it's over and the two of them can be together. While on the front, however, he receives a letter...yep, a "Dear John" letter. She still loves him, but she doesn't want to get in between him and his family, so she breaks it off. The war ends in an armistice; not just Germany, but Reinhardt as well, returns home with his figurative tail between his legs, demoralized and humiliated. [NOTE, WTF, I do not remember writing that. What a weird analogy.] His family is rather cool at first but they magnanimously decide not to rub it in, TOO much. Reinhardt keeps his position in the family, though he's not sure the cost is worth it.

World War II rears its ugly head. Reinhardt's a bit on the older side so I'm not sure yet if he joins the Waffen-SS and fights a bit, or if he heads straight for the SS-Totenkopfverbände, which often switches out members with the Waffen-SS; either way, he ends up in an administrative position in the SS-TV, doing boring bureaucratic stuff. He doesn't complain--in fact, this is the type of work he's best at, taking charge of people, smoothing things over, handling disagreements and all the petty squabbles the SS gets involved in behind the scenes. He prefers bringing people to the table to talk things through, and dealing with theoretical issues on paper, and making a huge cumbersome process more efficient. And if there's anything that's big and cumbersome and perplexing, it's the SS camp system, which the SS-Totenkopfverbände oversees.

Why did Reinhardt join the SS in the first place? I'm not sure, especially considering his temperament. He's not murderous, he's not hateful, he's not bloodthirsty or malicious or even radicalized the way Lt. Hesse is. He's not committed to the idea of the stab in the back. He does come with a lot of old-fashioned, imperialist baggage, though. While most of his fellow SS members are violently racist and antisemitic to the point of wanting people dead, Reinhardt's racism is more subtle, but just as pervasive. The SS comes up with an early plan to deport the Jews elsewhere, possibly to Madagascar (I'm not making that up, "Madagaskarplan" was actually a thing); it doesn't occur to him to think, hm, maybe Madagascar isn't a viable solution to the Jewish Question and it's more likely they'll die there and that's kind of the point--Reinhardt doesn't tend to deal in unpleasant things, he's an idealist. Also, he may not despise or wish violence on the Jews, but he still sees them as subhuman; to him, they're almost like lower primates, with basic intelligence and abilities but nowhere on the same level as the Aryans. They're like chimpanzees or gorillas or, at best, small children. (Presumably he feels the same about other races.) If they ever do anything bad, well it's not really their fault, they just don't possess the intelligence or reasoning ability to know better. They need to be looked after for their own good, and it's the SS's job to do that.

He's an idealist, and pretty naive about some things, but not entirely ignorant--he knows when the camps start focusing on more extreme measures for dealing with Jews and Roma and gays and disabled. He doesn't agree with it, but it's not his place to question; he sticks by the idea that resettlement or supervision is better, but can do nothing more than that. Another reason he finds it preferable to work from behind desks--out of sight, out of mind.

This all changes one day when the alarm at the nearby labor camp is triggered--a group of prisoners has escaped after murdering the commandant, Ernst Dannecker, and presumably taking his stepdaughter Margarethe hostage. (She's actually in on it, though nobody knows this for a while.) There are signs that a while has already passed since the escape; turns out they have roughly an hour's lead. The SS sends out search parties to go through all the nearby buildings and homes although their hopes of finding the perpetrators are dim.

Reinhardt is of course made aware of this but has nothing to do with it. The next day, however, a guard from the camp arrives at SS-Totenkopfverbände administrative headquarters, disheveled and breathless, with bizarre news. After Dannecker's death, his adjutant, Maj. Lars Franke, assumes command--nothing too weird about that. It's the manner in which he does it that raises eyebrows. Franke takes control and insists that he now has the permanent position of commandant--not temporary, and there'll be no process for determining whether anyone else might be better suited. Dannecker was unpopular, so there was lots of whispered theorizing about who might assume his place should anything happen; so of course the other guards are pissed off that they don't even get a say. Franke immediately cracks down on any dissent, threatening the guards the same way Dannecker once threatened them, and just as immediately, they all hate him as well, and want him out. The moment they argue back, though, he snaps--in the middle of the prison yard, in full view of guards and prisoners alike, he orders the kapo, Isaak Schindel, to beat the guard who's being insubordinate. Schindel--who was terrorized by Dannecker previously and is terrorized now--just freezes: He can't disobey an order from an SS guard, but he can't beat an SS guard, either--he literally has no idea what to do. Franke resolves this issue by grabbing Schindel's club and doing the job himself. He beats the guard senseless, threatens any of the other guards that if they help him out he'll do the same to them, hurls Schindel's club at the ground, and storms back inside, where he promptly locks himself in Dannecker's office--which still has his bloodstain on the floor--and refuses to open the door for or respond to anyone. It looks like he's suffered a complete mental breakdown, which isn't far from the truth.

In the midst of the beating, this particular guard mutters to a coworker, "F**k this, I'm getting out of here," demands to be let out (the guards operating the gate are too bewildered to refuse), and flees to headquarters, begging to speak with anyone in charge. The situation is so confusing, and his story so unbelievable, plus the SS-TV is still reeling from Dannecker's death, that it's quite a while before he's put in contact with Reinhardt--or rather, Reinhardt volunteers to hear him, since nobody else seems inclined to. The guard relates his tale, and Reinhardt agrees to visit the camp to see what's up. He arrives there and is allowed in and is met by a bizarre scene: Nobody is working--the few guards still in the yard are keeping to themselves near the administration building, while the prisoners are mostly lingering at the side of the yard near their barracks. Their attention is focused not on the guards but on something on the ground not too far away--it's the unconscious guard, who's been left lying there this whole time. One of the prisoners is squatting on the muddy ground near him, holding a stick and staring back at the others, who have malevolent looks on their thin faces. Reinhardt strides in this direction, noting how the prisoners start to immediately and furtively disperse as soon as they see him coming. The remaining prisoner has his back to him, so doesn't know he's there until he speaks.

Reinhardt: "You! On the ground."

Prisoner: (jumps up, surprised, takes off his cap; he's wearing a green-and-yellow star) "Herr--Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Reinhardt: "Name."

Prisoner: "Schin--Schindel, Isaak Schindel, Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Reinhardt: "What are you doing with that weapon?"

Schindel: "I'm--I'm der Lagerälteste, Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Reinhardt: "Just the one?"

Schindel: "Ja, Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Reinhardt: "What happened to this man?"

Schindel: "It--it was my stick but I didn't touch him, Herr Obersturmbannführer, I swear."

Reinhardt: "Tell me what happened."

Schindel: (hesitates)

Reinhardt: "The truth, Herr Schindel."

Schindel: "It...it was the adjutant, Herr Obersturmbannführer. Herr Franke. He got mad at this man, who gave him cheek, and...he ordered me to hit him but I can't do that, I didn't want to disobey but I didn't know what to do. So he took my stick and beat him with it. I didn't touch him, I swear."

Reinhardt: (stunned) "He's just been lying here unattended since then--?"

Schindel: "Ja, Herr Obersturmbannführer. Herr Franke ordered none of the guards to help him."

Reinhardt: "And why are you sitting here like this?"

Schindel: "Well..." (glances toward the prisoners milling around) "If I didn't they would've killed him, Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Increasingly angry, Reinhardt shouts for one of the nearby guards to come, and orders him and a companion to carry the unconscious guy into the medical ward; when they reiterate Franke's order that they not touch the guy, Reinhardt retorts, "I'm the one with rank here, are you going to disobey?" and that settles it, they pick the poor guy up and carry him away. Then he orders Schindel to lead him to Dannecker's office. This is not Schindel's job, and he feels very ill at ease about it, but also obeys. As soon as he draws near the office a couple more guards loitering nearby see him and start saying, "Hey, Jew, what do you think you're doing in here--?" but Reinhardt then appears and they snap to attention. He demands to be shown to Dannecker's office. They take him there and the door is of course locked; "Kamerad Franke is inside, but he won't come out or do anything but yell at us," one of the guards explains. Reinhardt pounds on the door--"Sturmbannführer Franke!"--and immediately gets a voice shrieking back at him, "I SAID TO GO AWAY!!" That won't do at all.

Reinhardt: "Kamerad Franke! This is Obersturmbannführer Hasso Reinhardt from the administrative office. I order you to open this door immediately!"

Franke: (hurried footsteps, then the rattling of the door unlocking and opening) (panicky) "K--Kamerad Reinhardt! I'm so sorry, I thought you were one of the others--"

Reinhardt: "What the hell is going on here?"

Franke: "Nothing, Kamerad, just a few of my men overreacting."

Reinhardt: "Overreacting? You're the one who's locked yourself in this office, you mind telling me what that's all about?"

Franke: "I just--I just needed a bit of time to cool my head, Kamerad, it's been pure madness here with Kamerad Dannecker's--"

Reinhardt: "Don't act like I don't know what's been going on. It's no excuse for you to behave this way. What's this business with that poor fellow out in the yard? The kapo says you hit him?"

Franke: "Only--only because they both disobeyed my direct orders! There must be discipline! Or else everything breaks down!"

Reinhardt: "You don't go pummeling one of your own men nearly to death and then leave him lying in the dirt, Kamerad Franke!"

Franke: "He disobeyed an order and talked back to me. There's no excuse for it! I have to set an example for the rest!"

Reinhardt: "What sort of example, that you're even worse than Kamerad Dannecker was? He didn't know how to run a camp and neither do you. You know the way we do things and this isn't it. You're not fit to be commandant here."

Franke: "Wh...what?"

Reinhardt: "You're to gather your belongings and leave camp property immediately. For a medical emergency."

Franke: "Med--medical emergency? But--I'm perfectly fine!"

Reinhardt: "You're obviously not. Gather your things and take a medical leave."

Franke: "You can't do this! This isn't your camp!"

Reinhardt: "Effective immediately, it is. Now you can get your things and take a medical leave, or I can send you to a doctor myself. Which would you prefer?"

Well, considering what the Nazis do to the mentally unstable, Franke sees the writing on the wall; fuming and humiliated, he gathers his belongings and departs, though he mutters lots of vague threats under his breath as he does so, and at the gate even shakes his fist back at the camp--"I'm not just going away! I'm going to be back!"--before storming off.

(The last time I talked about Franke's "voluntary" departure, I had no idea what would become of him. I've since learned some details. He successfully transfers into the Waffen-SS, joins a panzer division (both the Wehrmacht and the Waffen-SS have these in my story, and the two often get into sparring matches with each other--the SS think they're badasses while the Wehrmacht think they're idiots who suck at fighting, plus their tanks break down a lot), and gets some of the aggression out of his system that way. He may or may not unwittingly become involved in Project Doomsday, which starts administering the serum to unsuspecting Waffen-SS members. Another thing I found out is, ah, he has a thing for drag performers. But he gets really, really pissed off if you mention he has a thing for drag performers; he just refers to them as women. Some serious denial going on. Anyway. Say goodbye to Franke for now, back to Reinhardt.)

Well, Reinhardt finds he's inherited a labor camp. He doesn't really want it, but here it is. He starts taking action--first order of business is seeing to the prisoners still milling around outside. He asks a guard if they've been fed; no, not since yesterday. Orders some soup cooked up in the kitchen and handed out, then for the prisoners to head back to their barracks since there's no point getting them back to work that day. He'll figure out what else to do with them tomorrow. Checks on the injured guard now in the medical ward; he's regained consciousness but is groggy and in a lot of pain and likely to be out of commission for a while. Gathers the other guards in the yard, gives them a brief summary of what to expect--"Expect some changes"--then sends them back to their posts. Returns to Dannecker's office--now his office--and is surprised to find Schindel still there, wringing his cap in his hands. Reinhardt never dismissed him, so of course he never left; he was so quiet Reinhardt forgot he was there. Requests him to fetch the nearest guard and bring him to the office, and stares at the bloodstain on the floor; he'll need to get that taken care of, too. Schindel returns with a guard, who salutes.

Reinhardt: "That'll do, Herr...ah..."

Schindel: "Schindel, Herr Obersturmbannführer."

Reinhardt: "Herr Schindel. Return to your duties, bitte."

Schindel: (bobs head and leaves)

Reinhardt: "Kamerad. There are any other Sturmbannführer here?"

Guard: "Nein, Kommandant Reinhardt."

Reinhardt: "Hm. Do we have personnel files on site?"

Guard: "Ja, Kommandant Reinhardt."

Reinhardt: "Gather the files of all the Untersturmführer through the Hauptsturmführer and bring them to me, bitte."

Guard goes to the files and records room. An Obersturmführer named Jan Delbrück is here; he used to patrol the yard, and is in charge of administering the final shots that finish off prisoners who are to be executed by firing squad--a highly unpleasant job that he hates. Dannecker, however, got fed up with his habit of "fraternizing" with Schindel--by offering him cigarettes and the two of them standing and smoking together as they watched the yard--so relegated him to the file room and away from the prisoners. He's perplexed by the other guard's request: "What the f**k you want all those files for?" When he's informed that Kommandant Reinhardt wants them he's all "Who the f**k is Kommandant Reinhardt?" When he's told Reinhardt booted Franke and is now in charge he's all "What the f**k is going on out there??" Turns out nobody's bothered to even check in on him and he's missed everything, even the hasty roll call earlier. Despite being beyond flustered, he gathers the requested files and hands them over, then takes a break to go smoke since this is all way over his head. Returns to the file room and to whatever tedious but stable job it is Dannecker gave him to do there, but some time later, is again interrupted by the guard, now informing him that Reinhardt has requested him. Goes to Dannecker's--Reinhardt's--office and meets him for the first time. Reinhardt has Delbrück's file in his hand. He's been browsing through them all, seeking an appropriate replacement for Franke--a new adjutant--and he thinks Delbrück fits the bill just nicely. Flustered all over again--and not really interested in additional responsibility--Delbrück stammers that the previous adjutants were all just one rank below the commandants, whereas he's three ranks below. Reinhardt waves his hand and dismissively says, "Oh, fine, fine--Hauptsturmführer--Sturmbannführer. There. I'll make it official later. Move your belongings to Kamerad Franke's old suite, he won't be needing it anymore. And report back here in the morning and...well, start doing whatever it is adjutants do, we'll figure it out."

Delbrück's pretty sure that's not how promotions work but is too confused to argue. He stands there for a moment, then returns to his bunk, gets his belongings, and moves out of the guard barracks and into Franke's old quarters in the administration building. Reinhardt, meanwhile, unlocks and enters the suite that was supposed to be Dannecker's--it's just off his office--yet has gone unused all this time. Commandants are required to live on camp property and never be away for longer than 24 hours without permission, yet this is just another of the SS regulations that Dannecker disregarded, choosing instead to live in a house offsite with his wife and stepchildren. Reinhardt looks around the barren quarters and lets out a small sigh. There will need to be big changes here. But they'll have to wait until morning.

Camp mornings come early, but Reinhardt is used to waking before dawn. Roll call is taken for both prisoners and guards, and the former are sent to work as usual, though Reinhardt takes some additional time to address the guards. The current situation and schedule will remain for now but a new one is to be phased in over time. Firstly, renovation of the prisoner barracks. Of course the prisoners themselves are going to handle all the heavy work, but it'll result in better living conditions, which means improved prisoner labor. Speaking of labor, the entire way this is handled is to be overhauled. No more back breaking just for the sake of back breaking; it's a labor camp, and its immense labor force can be put to good use for the Reich. Labor is going to be diversified--some camps are known for their manufacture of goods, for example--and prisoners are to be assessed for general labor skills and then assigned appropriate roles on the reorganized labor force. The camp will become productive rather than destructive. And speaking of destructive: Reinhardt points at the crematorium, and says, "It's my goal to keep that thing running as infrequently as possible. This is not an extermination camp. If one can be productive, if one can earn their keep, then they don't get the bullet. We're in a war; we need to keep things working."

The guards listen but cast each other sideways glances. Reinhardt's ideas are beyond strange, but nobody speaks up. Over the following weeks and months, they gradually implement the new plan; the prisoners fix up the buildings, new jobs are assigned, necessary goods are brought in. Previously the camp was known only for hard, pointless labor, things like breaking and transporting rocks aimlessly, building and tearing down walls, digging and filling in holes--stupid stuff that was never intended to be productive, just to more slowly kill the prisoners. Those who were incapable of doing any of this were shot and cremated. Under Dannecker, the crematorium ran almost constantly, its acrid black smoke a frequent irritant to people in the city when the wind blew the wrong way. Now, heavy labor serves a purpose, plus lighter jobs are created--such as sewing uniforms, and the manufacture of goods for sale--and prisoners who previously might have been executed on arrival are put to work in these roles instead. Of course, there are always going to be those who can do no work at all, and the crematorium can't stop running entirely. Still, the death toll drops significantly, and Reinhardt occasionally fudges it even more by sending unwanted prisoners along to other camps rather than killing them there. This makes it clear his motivations aren't 100% altruistic and enlightened--for example, he puts these particular prisoners out of his mind, they're someone else's problem--plus he's still advocating what's basically slave labor. Still, it's a far more progressive stance than most commandants take, and it isn't long before Reinhardt's tactics start to garner attention--definitely not all of it positive. The SS-Totenkopfverbände, in particular, is concerned by this turn of events, and sends representatives to question Reinhardt and check the place out.

Reinhardt shows off how much the camp has improved, the crematorium barely runs anymore, the prisoners are in better shape and making good use of their skills. A representative complains that this isn't what the camp is for. "It's a labor camp, ja...?" Reinhardt retorts. "I'm making these prisoners productive members of society, in keeping with our principles." He points at the sign over the gate, ARBEIT MACHT FREI. "You see that gate? Work sets you free." "It's not meant to be taken literally," the representative protests, but it's futile; Reinhardt says, "Unless and until I get a letter to desist from der Reichsführer himself, this is how I'm running my camp." The representatives leave, flustered and nonplussed but unable to do anything. Various times throughout Reinhardt's tenure as commandant, he gets such visits and audits, and sparks quite a bit of grumbling in the ranks of the SS-Totenkopfverbände and the Allgemeine-SS (which also investigates Reinhardt and various of his men such as Delbrück for possible criminal activities), but they can never dig up quite enough dirt to do much, and higher-ups aren't much inclined to take action, being too distracted by the war. Not to mention that everyone considers this situation a vast improvement over how Dannecker did things, and the camp really is quite productive, finally turning a profit off its labor. And the city residents find it nice not breathing that awful smoke all the time. It seems like a win-win for everyone. (Well, except for the prisoners who get sent along to other camps.)

Speaking of Delbrück, even he expresses skepticism of Reinhardt's new methods--"You know they're all laughing at you behind your back, ja?" he asks as they eat dinner together (both of them are bachelors)--but Reinhardt brushes it off: "I don't worry about what they're doing behind my back when I have enough to deal with in front of my face."

Since I just alluded to it...in the SS it's supposed to be a rule that eligible men get married and start families--four kids is the ideal. Many of them never bother, for various reasons. Delbrück, for example, is a loner who despises the thought of starting a family, though he does participate for a while in Lebensborn, likely fathering at least a few children he never meets, then later on gets involved with Mirjam Zweifel, a Jewish prostitute (obviously this doesn't count, though to him it ends up being a relationship). Reinhardt, meanwhile, just never gets around to it. Although it was ages ago and most of his family have passed on, he still carries the sting of being dumped by the one woman he cared about so much, and although he has a brief fling here and there (I mean, he's not entirely celibate), like Delbrück, he doesn't bother getting emotionally attached. Now nearing middle age, although still fit and in good health, he can't help but figure most women wouldn't be too interested in settling down with him anyway. So rather than deal with possible rejection he just avoids the subject. Delbrück doesn't get pestered by the SS about this due to his "contributions" to Lebensborn, though the SS does niggle at Reinhardt now and then that he's not getting any younger; he does his best to ignore them and focus on his work.

When keeping track of everything at the camp gets a little too complicated, they decide they need to hire a secretary. The SS-Helferinnenkorps, the women's auxiliary offshoot of the SS (women aren't allowed to join the Schutzstaffel), accordingly sends one over. SS-Helfer Britta Azinger arrives and meets Delbrück first; he takes a good look at her--young, blue eyed, strawberry blond, petite, curvy, with the most adorable winning smile--and promptly leads her to Reinhardt's office, barely able to keep the smirk off his face. They'd been expecting a dour frumpy older woman, not this. They arrive before Reinhardt's desk and Delbrück introduces Azinger but the commandant doesn't even bother looking up from his papers at first, just offering a hasty greeting and waving for Delbrück to show her to her office, until Azinger speaks up, saying, "Guten Tag, Kamerad Reinhardt, I've heard such good things and I look forward to working with you." Hearing that bright unexpected voice, Reinhardt looks up. And blinks. The most beatific smile spreads across Azinger's face, and the lamp backlights her just so, that she literally looks like an angel beaming down at him. (It doesn't hurt that she's rather busty and the buttons on her shirt and jacket are straining, either.) He stands up to greet her--she's quite short and he's quite tall--and wonders aloud what she means by having heard good things about him; "Oh, everyone's heard of how you run your camp," she says; "It's quite revolutionary! I actually volunteered to be posted here so I might learn more about your techniques." Reinhardt's quite startled by all this, but Azinger just has the most winning smile (and oddly tight uniform), and she seems so impressed by him, that he can barely think straight; he offers to show her to her office instead of Delbrück. He tells her when he and Delbrück have dinner and invites her to join them--"I understand if you have other plans, though." Azinger, however, replies that it'd be her pleasure to join them, and Reinhardt leaves her to get settled in her new office. Delbrück's been lurking off to the side this whole time and he falls into step with Reinhardt again, still smirking, as he returns to his adjacent office.

Reinhardt: "What's with that look?"

Delbrück: "I think she likes you."

Reinhardt: "Oh nonsense! She's just excited about the job, you heard her."

Delbrück: "Mm-hm."

Reinhardt: "And what's that mean?"

Delbrück: "Means I've yet to meet a Fräulein so 'excited about a job,' but if that's what you'd like to tell yourself."

Reinhardt: "You're being ridiculous! I'm old enough to be her father. Um Himmels willen!"

Delbrück: "So?"

Reinhardt: "She has far more in common with you."

Delbrück: "I'm not the one she was giving that look, but whatever you'd like to tell yourself!"

Reinhardt: "She--wasn't giving any look! Stop being stupid!"

Delbrück: "All right then, she's just really interested in your camp techniques."

Reinhardt: "Oh...shut up!!"

It's obvious, though, that Azinger's presence, and her willingness to hang on every word he says, have Reinhardt flustered. He tries hard to stick to the idea that she's literally just star struck by the way he runs the camp, but has to admit to himself that her admiration is flattering, and she's awfully pretty. She gets set up in her office, gets her assignments, sets to work getting everything in order. And even though she's just one secretary, she's quite skilled at this; she's not merely a cute face and a snug jacket. (Though that sure doesn't hurt.) She joins Reinhardt and Delbrück at their suppers on site (Delbrück goes missing every few weeks, paying a visit to the brothel, though they're unaware of this), and she listens, rapt, to everything he says and laughs at every joke he makes. He has to force himself to ignore Delbrück's looks lest he get the urge to slap him. And then one day he and Azinger just happen to end up in a file room at the same time and she needs help reaching a shelf and nearly falls so he catches her and yes, you can guess what happens. Delbrück wasn't being ridiculous after all. Still, Reinhardt wonders if it's genuine or just a one-time thing. He decides to invite her back to his quarters one evening and see how it goes.

This excerpt from an adult WIP is rather more...risqué...than I prefer to post here, and I considered editing it a bit, but I guess it's PG-13 enough to share. I did make TWO edits: In the original, Reinhardt calls Azinger "Fräulein Azinger," which in my version of things is not correct, he should be calling her "Kameradin." I also changed the spelling of "Commandant" as I feel it should be spelled with a K when it's in a title. ("Kamerad Hasso" isn't accidental, earlier he asked her to call him that privately. I don't think this is standard in German but my characters often use "Herr," "Frau," etc. before a first name when they're familiar yet not intimate with each other; they use these before last names when they're not as familiar. When very close to each other (e. g., married) and talking directly to each other (i. e., not referring to each other in third person) they usually drop titles altogether. Notice for example how Inga Dobermann refers to, say, Ernst Dannecker, a formal acquaintance of her husband's, as "Herr Dannecker," to her own close friend Gunter Hesse as "Herr Gunter," and addresses her husband as just "Louis." Again, this is likely a convention of my own design, not based on fact.) Any other inaccuracies in titles are due to my own ignorance (and on what I just explained), and yeah, my version of SS members have...weird morbid conversations with each other. I mean, I figure it comes with the job.

He paused in the doorway and watched her gather papers for a moment before venturing, "Kameradin Azinger...?" She lifted her head to give him an inquisitive look. Ah God, her eyes were so beautiful and blue. "Would you like to join me tonight...? In my quarters?" He pushed down a twinge of worry that he was being too forward, and added, "It's certain to be more accommodating than a file room."

Was that overstepping? Surely he'd overstepped. He wondered a moment why he'd let himself get so rusty with women. Azinger, though, after blinking those beautiful eyes, smiled that beautiful smile--it put dimples in her round cheeks and made the corners of her eyes crinkle in a way that made his heartbeat pick up--and tapped her papers into a neat pile. Her desk was so neat and orderly, like her uniform; he had the sudden urge to sweep all the papers off it and hoist her up onto it and rip her buttons off, and had to swallow hard--why did these images keep popping into his head, he wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore. She stepped around that lovely neat desk, clasping her folder of papers to those lovely plump breasts, and crinkled those lovely blue eyes at him.

"Of course, Kamerad Kommandant. I'd love to."

The way she said I'd love to made a shiver pass over his skin; it wasn't quite proper but he offered his arm, and she looped her own through it, and they left her office. This time of the evening, the chance they'd run into any of the other guards was minimal, and even Schindel and Delbrück were busy elsewhere--Schindel keeping watch out in the yard with his stick, Delbrück gone off to do...whatever it was he decided to do every couple of weeks--so surely it wouldn't hurt to walk arm in arm for once. He peered down at her and she peered back up, giving her sweet smile and pressing a little bit closer so her breast brushed against him. Ah, God...he swallowed and walked a bit faster, Azinger following suit.

The camp was small enough that the commandant didn't have his own house, rather just personal quarters located off his main office. These had gone unused during Dannecker's tenure, the previous commandant preferring to break with regulations and return to his private home, not far outside camp grounds, every night; Reinhardt had decided to resume normal rules and order, which meant staying on camp property at night. He imagined this was easier for him, having no family to return home to, although now that Azinger had arrived, dim thoughts of being surrounded by beautiful plump little children had started forming in his mind. He blushed a little and pushed these thoughts down as rather premature; she was just an SS-Helfer, her position only temporary so far, and he had no clue what her thoughts were about settling down and starting a family, yet. There was time for such things in the future; right now they arrived at his office, and he unlocked the door and ushered her within. He then unlocked the door behind the desk, turning on the lamp, and gestured; Azinger stepped inside, peering around.

"I've never seen a commandant's personal quarters before," she murmured, rather needlessly, he felt, though he didn't mind the attempt at conversation.

"You've worked in many camps...?" he inquired.

"This is my third. And I must say, a great improvement over the others. I realize they're a necessary evil...but still. I don't like very much writing up the lists of who is to go to the gas chambers every day."

"Well...this is no issue, here," Reinhardt said, feeling a twinge of pride. "This is no death camp. I prefer to focus on keeping my inmates alive. What good is a labor camp if you keep killing off the labor?" He gestured at the windows and she peered at the view of the buildings in the distance. "Anyone who becomes too sick or weak to work, we humanely shoot in the head, and send to the crematorium. See no smoke? It doesn't run that often. Some commandants work their inmates into the ground, but what's the good of that. This is actually both cheaper and more efficient, plus the inmates are far less likely to cause trouble."

"So sensible." Azinger smiled up at him and his heartbeat picked up again.

"Ja, well...after the debacle with the previous leadership, the bar is a bit low," he admitted, not sure why he felt the need to downplay his earlier bragging.

"Come, now." She set down her folder and clasped his hands in hers, pressing them to her bosom; he had to fight not to try to dig his fingers into her. "Everything I've been told says you've done most excellent work with your camp! Decent labor, decent morale! Your guards are in top form and even your kapo seems content. No more awful, horrible Dannecker with the bodies piling up and the crematorium running all the time. We all heard the stories about him. No wonder he had a prisoner escape. A lousy commandant with poor control of his camp. Good riddance!"

Reinhardt blinked--that outburst had certainly been unexpected. "Ja, well," he said, and could think of nothing else.

"You, on the other hand..." She clasped his hands tighter against that lovely plump swell, and he swallowed. "So efficient! So well organized and kind! A commandant doesn't have to be a soulless monster, a Dannecker. You've proven this. I hope all pay attention, I hope you and your camp become the model for the rest. Such a service to the Fatherland." She lowered his hands, as well as her voice. "Kamerad Hasso...the bedroom? I think I should like to see it, right about now."

As she'd talked, her breathing had kept picking up; his had, as well. "So should I," he nearly stammered. "You...you wouldn't prefer some tea or something, first...?" he made himself ask, to be polite.

Azinger quickly shook her head. "Nein, danke...bedroom?"

"This way."

Squeezing her hand back, he gently pulled one of his free and led her through the sitting room, down a short hall, and opened a door to usher her inside. He turned on the lamp and the rather spare but functional settings were illuminated. Azinger glanced around at the bed, the bureau, the small desk, the lack of any decor.

Said Reinhardt, "I know it's likely not as much as you're used to..."

She turned back to face him. "So efficient!" she breathed, clasped his tunic, and kissed him. He blinked--this was the oddest kink he'd heard of yet, and he'd heard of quite a few...

I have to cut off there as it quickly turns no longer PG-13, heh. 😅

Anyway, it's pretty clear by now it's not just a one-time thing, and Azinger isn't just really into his "techniques," she's definitely interested in him. And Reinhardt's definitely interested in her. Yes, she's young and cute and enthusiastic but those are just the icing on the cake; she seems to genuinely admire him, and they have lots of long talks when not otherwise occupied. Her mindset is similar to his in lots of ways, and he finds his previous infatuation growing into something more. He really does imagine that a life with her, having a family, would be a good one, and it's not even a leap, they both meet all the SS criteria so surely a marriage would be approved. He never gets the chance to ask her, however, even if he'd been able to summon the courage; after some time Azinger's posting at the camp expires, and she's called to return to headquarters for a new assignment elsewhere. She delivers this news to Reinhardt quite gloomily; her disappointment is apparent, and sincere. Reinhardt sadly sees her off, wishing her well and standing in the yard with Delbrück to watch the car drive her away. Delbrück lights a cigarette, takes a draw, lets it out. Pats Reinhardt's shoulder.

Delbrück: "Other fish in the sea, Kamerad."

Reinhardt: (resigned) "Ja...yet none of them are her."

The story goes on, Reinhardt keeps running his camp. As the war draws to a head, it starts to become clear Germany is not faring so well, and ominous rumors spread from the Eastern Front that more troops may need to be mustered from the ranks of the camp guards; Reinhardt attempts to ignore these as there's nothing really he can do, anyway. More prisoners pass through the camp so it has to be enlarged to accommodate some, though this also means more people are sent away on the trains; Reinhardt doesn't like this but has no real say over it. He tries to cling to his idealism but the state of things has him growing increasingly jaded, with thoughts of wanting it to be over so he can just quit the camp and retire back to his old country estate. Sure, he'll be alone, but it's better than dealing with this all the time.

And then, seemingly out of the blue, a ray of sunshine: Azinger arrives back at the camp, suitcase in hand, bright smile on her face. She's gone through various postings in other locations; when her most recent one ended, her supervisor offered her her choice of her next assignment, since she'd done so well. Azinger requested to return to Reinhardt's camp. Her supervisor was perplexed by this, yet granted the request; and now here she is, "If you'll have me." Of course he'll have her; Reinhardt heartily welcomes her back in more ways than one. She resumes her previous role keeping camp records in order and keeping him company at night; he at last gathers the courage to awkwardly ask her to come to stay with him, for good, when the war is over, and she gives him that sunny smile that makes his heart flutter and says of course she will.

Waffen-SS officials pay the camp a visit and request that Reinhardt summon all his guards under the age of forty: Reinforcements are needed on the Eastern Front. The Waffen-SS and the SS-Totenkopfverbände are closely aligned, with the camp system frequently drawing its guards from the ranks of wounded Waffen-SS members; the obverse holds as well now, with the Waffen-SS drawing additional troops from among the camp guards. A good number of Reinhardt's guards are under forty, so he's left with a skeleton crew, although he does get a few extra from the Waffen-SS. Among those to be mustered into service, however, is his adjutant, Delbrück; Delbrück's never been in combat before so he's a little nervous, but he doesn't protest, and responds to the call. Reinhardt watches him go this time, and pushes down his feelings of worry, that the war isn't heading in the direction it should be. When Delbrück and most of his guards return some months later, not much worse for wear, these feelings only increase; Delbrück confirms his suspicions that something is up, and the "triumphant" return of these troops is concealing it. The war is practically lost, and those in command know it's just a matter of time before either the Americans or the Red Army make it into Germany; Delbrück and the others could have continued fighting, but were called back for this mock celebration, basically abandoning the regular Wehrmacht troops. (Delbrück practically burned with shame when he and the others were ordered to leave the front, the regular troops yelling about what cowards the SS were although they offered to stay.) The only way their position would be surrendered is if those in charge knew it was futile. Delbrück says the Red Army isn't there just yet, but they should be arriving in the coming months. He urges Reinhardt to make a plan to bail out the first chance he gets; he says that he sure will.

Reinhardt is dismayed by this news, but not ready to go. When news reaches them that Allied troops have in fact entered the country, he advises Azinger to return to her family and head someplace safe. She asks him to come with her, but he says he has to stay at the camp. "Maybe I'll see you after all this," he says, though he knows his chances are dim if he's captured. Realizing she can't convince him to leave his post, Azinger vows, "I'll wait for you," kisses him, and departs.

Delbrück and a handful of the guards are the next to go, after enemy troops have entered the city; Reinhardt doesn't try to stop them, and even wishes Delbrück good luck before he goes. (Delbrück runs into the camp chauffeur, Andreas Cranz, and they, Cranz's mother, the prostitute Delbrück's been seeing, and her daughter escape the city.) Reinhardt ventures into the city but gets hit by a random shot and returns to the camp, in great pain and bleeding heavily; he makes his way to the room where the loudspeaker system and other controls are located. He announces over the loudspeakers that the gate is to be left open, and he's turning off the electricity to the fences; any guards remaining are free to leave, but even more, any prisoners who are able to walk are allowed to flee as well. He's heard rumors of other camps being liberated so he assumes the same will happen here, and any prisoners too weak or sick to leave on their own will soon be rescued anyway. He turns off the microphone, shuts off electricity to the fences, and slumps to the floor to wait for the troops to show up, figuring they're likely to shoot or hang him; he's not too afraid of that, though he regrets that he won't get to spend more time with Azinger.

After a little while, as he's dozing off, he hears footsteps. He blinks his eyes open when a shadow falls over him, expecting an American soldier (if he's lucky) or a Russian soldier (if he's unlucky), which is why he's so confused to see instead Isaak Schindel, the kapo, looking down at him.

Something I actually forgot to go over while I was detailing the relationship between Reinhardt and Azinger is the relationship between Reinhardt and Schindel. It's an odd one, but just as genuine. Although he was appointed kapo by the previous commandant, Ernst Dannecker, after getting into a fight with another inmate, Schindel was also treated terribly by him; he wasn't a frequent target of Dannecker's, but the handful of times Dannecker went after him were bad, especially an incident where he forced Schindel and another prisoner, Josef Diamant, into a humiliating and degrading situation--what made that incident especially rough was that Schindel hadn't even done anything to warrant being involved, he was just there. Diamant, the true target of Dannecker's spite, is of course the one who killed him and escaped, leading to Reinhardt taking over. (Schindel witnessed the escape, and despite their enmity--he'd started targeting Diamant for beatings and harassment after the incident with Dannecker since he couldn't target Dannecker himself--Diamant left the figurative door open for him to join them, but he was too afraid to participate.) Schindel has no idea what to expect of a new commandant. The job of kapo is an especially dangerous one, as you're hated by the guards, yet you're hated even more by your fellow prisoners. You have to constantly watch your back. Schindel has a wife and child on the outside (or so he hopes) and is focused on surviving long enough to get back to them; he decides the guards are the lesser of two evils (the kapo gets a weapon, a private room, some extra food, and no beatings, improving his chances of survival), and tries hard to keep them placated, which includes sitting by and protecting the guard beaten by Franke, since he knows he'll be killed by the other prisoners, otherwise. (After he stands over the guard and threatens the approaching prisoners with his club, one of them spits at him yet they resentfully retreat.) When Reinhardt arrives in the yard and first addresses him, he's as submissive as ever, removing his cap (a requirement when interacting with the SS) and obeying everything he requests. He hopes he won't be as bad as Dannecker.

Reinhardt is a big imposing guy, so it's easy to get the wrong impression of him, yet he's not exactly cruel to the prisoners, and especially not to Schindel. He ends up relying on the kapo quite a bit, even having him run errands that aren't typical for a prisoner functionary--light work, like fetching things and people. Lest I give the wrong impression, this is not an egalitarian "friendship"--it's more like Reinhardt as a benevolent master and Schindel as a favorite slave, or a pet. Indeed, I already went over how Reinhardt assumes other races are just too mentally deficient to be on the same level, so of course he treats them almost like semi-intelligent animals. (He starts to modify this view after interacting with Tobias Schäfer, the Dobermanns' in-home physician and a former prisoner of the camp under Dannecker; he's surprised when Schäfer holds his own discussing intellectual matters with him and even appears to know more than he does, forcing him to reassess his belief that Jews are lacking in intelligence. After Lt. Hesse shuttles Schäfer away, Reinhardt asks him, "Kamerad Hesse! Who was that fascinating Jew??"--he's just so amazed.) Schindel is the one in the best position to know what's going on in the camp, so Reinhardt often turns to him for information--not outright snitching, but more to get a feel of the atmosphere. He even asks his opinions on things and makes smalltalk at him--I say "at," as Schindel, unlike Schäfer, is poorly educated, working class, and not so erudite or knowledgeable--he really IS ignorant of a lot of intellectual things, so he's not good at conversation. He's also confused why a commandant would want to chat with him rather than threaten him. So their interactions usually consist of Reinhardt doing most of the talking while Schindel listens with his head lowered and his cap in his hands, offering a "Ja, Herr Kommandant" or a "Nein, Herr Kommandant" or an "I don't know, Herr Kommandant." It's fine, though--Reinhardt just likes to talk, and Schindel listening is good enough for him. He grows quite fond of the kapo, to the point that he develops the habit of taking Schindel's cap and putting it back on his head whenever Schindel takes it off; considering that prisoners are required to remove their caps when dealing with the SS guards, Reinhardt's actions are quite a breach of etiquette, as well as very meaningful: In at least this one small thing, he considers Schindel nearly an equal, and deserving of respect.

Schindel, in turn, grows devoted to Reinhardt, mostly out of gratitude that he treats him so well. The inequality between them and the circumstances of their friendship--similar to Dr. Schäfer and Lt. Hesse, a relationship between a persecuted party and a persecutor--makes Schindel's reaction similar to Stockholm syndrome; it likely wouldn't have occurred in any other circumstances, and he and Reinhardt technically are enemies. He's so beaten down by his past treatment at Dannecker's hands and his poor relations with his fellow prisoners that the kindness Reinhardt shows him--however condescending--earns his loyalty, and he does whatever Reinhardt asks, without question.

Schindel hears Reinhardt's final message over the loudspeaker, has already seen the guards bailing out, watches the rest of them--and those prisoners who are able--flee the camp as soon as the gate opens and the electric fences turn off. He's literally free to make a run for it--but just like the last time such an opportunity presented itself, during Diamant's escape, he freezes, and can't bring himself to leave. He's gotten used to being a prisoner, and the uncertainty of the outside world is terrifying--ironic, considering how hard he's been fighting to stay alive long enough to be freed. He doesn't head for the wide-open gate. Instead he heads into the administration building, and goes looking for the control room. He finally locates it (he's passed through various parts of the building before) and tentatively enters. Finds Reinhardt here, sitting on the floor, slumped and bleeding, and hurries over to him.

Reinhardt blinks up at him and sees the kapo still wielding his club--for once, Schindel is looking down at him and he's looking up, and Schindel could very easily hit him in the head and kill him if he wanted to. Yet all that Reinhardt does is murmur, "Herr Schindel...? What are you doing here?"

Schindel sees how badly Reinhardt is wounded and tries to tend to him, though isn't sure how. He leaves temporarily to rummage through the medical building, where a few ill/injured prisoners remain, digs out antiseptic and bandages, returns, does what little he can though Reinhardt tells him it's too dangerous for him to try removing the bullet; all he can do is apply pressure to the wound. Reinhardt again asks him why he's there, tells him he has the chance to go now--doesn't he have family waiting for him? "I don't know where they are," Schindel stammers, eyes tearing up, "I don't even know if they're alive." For obvious reasons that comment stings Reinhardt a little. Further attempts to convince Schindel to leave result in him admitting he's too afraid to: "I don't remember what it's like out there, this is all I know." By now Reinhardt is growing drowsy and weak; Schindel tries to keep him awake, but he loses consciousness.

He comes to not long after at the sound of loud footsteps approaching, and immediately after, soldiers storm into the room, aiming their guns at Reinhardt and Schindel and yelling in another language. Schindel throws up his hands and panics, babbling that he can't understand, though they don't listen to him, just yell even louder. Reinhardt, on the other hand, recognizes the language--English--and is relieved that the Americans are the ones to find them, not the Russians. He's fluent in English and the soldiers are demanding their names, ranks, and serial numbers. He gives his name and rank and SS number, confirms when asked that he's the commandant of the camp, but insists Schindel can't understand and has no rank or number to give as he's a prisoner, not a Nazi. The soldiers don't immediately take his word for it as they've already come across plenty of SS officers attempting to escape while disguised as civilians or even as camp prisoners; "Cowards," Reinhardt mutters, but sticks to his story. The soldiers keep asking why a prisoner would stay behind with him rather than escape and he admits he can't answer that, he doesn't understand either. Eventually the Americans grudgingly accept that Schindel is who Reinhardt says he is--a search of the records left behind confirms that he's the kapo, which explains him being armed with a club--and he's taken away, still protesting, while another group of soldiers roughly pull Reinhardt up and take him to receive medical attention; they definitely aren't gentle about it, but at least he's still alive. So far.

While a medic is attending to his wound (sans anesthetic or painkillers), a military official visits him. Knowing he has nothing to gain from holding out, Reinhardt cooperates as best he's able. He confirms his identity and that the camp is his, and that he turned off the fences and opened the gate. He doesn't know where any of his guards ran off to as he made a deliberate point to never ask. He says there may still be prisoners who were too sick to leave the camp (the Americans have already found them). When asked why the crematorium is cold and has been cleaned out, he explains it hasn't been run in months. He asks if Schindel is being cared for and is surprised to learn Schindel has been asking after him as well; he requests the Americans to help Schindel find his family if possible. He doesn't have much useful information to offer, so he fully expects to end up on the wrong end of a rope or a gun, but the Americans persist with their interrogation in the hopes that he can provide something. He does tell them the location of SS-Totenkopfverbände administrative headquarters, where they might find more records--and he describes how to find the hidden passage leading under and away from the camp, which he and Delbrück had located some time previously. This, the SS had finally discovered, is how Josef Diamant and the others had escaped from the camp so long ago, and they'd learned of its presence from Margarethe Dannecker, whom Commandant Dannecker had once taken down there to abuse and threaten her to silence. (He claimed that down there, nobody could hear her scream.) Diamant had enlisted Gret's aid in killing her stepfather and escaping through this passage, which Dannecker himself had concealed behind a devil tapestry (Dannecker's nickname being Der Teufel, or The Devil). This confirms that Diamant, Gret, and their companions are in fact members of the resistance Diamond Network, which has worked against the Nazis ever since. Reinhardt hadn't thought he had any particularly useful info to offer the Allies, but this bit here is more illuminating than he knew, and helps ensure the safety of the remaining Network members as the Allies are taking over the city.

Reinhardt, to his surprise, is spared execution, though he is sentenced to around a decade in prison. He's brought to an old converted castle to serve his time. To his further surprise he's visited by Schindel. His joy at seeing him again is dampened once he learns his reason for being there: Schindel was able to locate his wife, alive and well with their young daughter, though both she and the rest of the old friends and family who survived the war want nothing more to do with him, due to his time spent as a kapo, a collaborator with the Nazis. He's alone and heartbroken: "I tried so hard to stay alive for them, and now they don't want me...I wish I'd died in the camp." Reinhardt is literally the only friendly face he can think of. Reinhardt tries to convince him it isn't his fault, though coming from him, he knows the words ring pretty hollow; all he can do is urge him to hold out hope, and offer a listening ear if and when Schindel needs it. He otherwise has plenty of alone time to think things over, and admits to the American military authorities who occasionally visit that, while he was wondering over the ignorance and stupidity of the "inferior" races, "I was the stupid one."

Reinhardt is eventually declared to no longer be a threat; he shows no interest in stirring up pro-Nazi sentiment or seeking out any remaining colleagues from the SS. He would honestly prefer to just return to his old family estate, though the property has since been confiscated and put to other use so it's no longer his. He serves out his full sentence and is released. On his way from the castle prison, he glances up and notices somebody standing some distance ahead. She's a little older, a little heavier, her strawberry blond hair a little darker, but there's no mistaking those crinkling blue eyes and that beaming smile. Britta Azinger indeed waited for him. After they embrace and greet each other, she explains that the world that awaits isn't kind to people like them--understandably--and while she was fortunate to find a job to support herself, she doubts he'll have the same luck. Reinhardt replies that he'll think of something. She asks him to join her and they go on a ride further into the country. They come to a stop and exit the car, looking around at the grass and trees. Reinhardt takes in a deep breath--fresh air.

Azinger: "It's not safe for you to be in the cities. Someone will always be able to track you down and know who you are."

Reinhardt: "I imagine."

Azinger: "I doubt anyone will let you have a job. I was lucky to find the one I did, save up some money just in case. I'm not sure what you'll be able to do, though."

Reinhardt: "I see no use in worrying. What will happen will happen. If it's not in my favor...well, I made my own bed."

Azinger: "Do...do you remember, back before the war ended, when you asked me to come stay with you? Once everything was over?"

Reinhardt: "Ja, I remember...what is it?"

Azinger: (gestures) "Come, this way. I want you to see something."

Reinhardt follows Azinger on a short walk through the trees and grass. A country path appears, then, at the other end, a tiny cottage. Reinhardt furrows his brow, looks quizzically at Azinger.

Azinger: "I figure you have nowhere left to stay. The money I saved up, I put it here. I know it's not really what you're used to..."

Reinhardt: (blinks) "You...you did this for me?"

Azinger: "For us, I hope." (pauses) "You asked me to come stay with you...I wondered, would it be so different if I asked you to come stay with me?"

Reinhardt: (pause) (smiles) "It wouldn't be so different at all."

Azinger smiles as well. Takes his hand--he grasps hers back--and they head for the little house together.

[Hasso Reinhardt 2022 [‎Friday, ‎December ‎16, ‎2022, ‏‎3:00:08 AM]]

[Hasso Reinhardt 2022 2 [‎Friday, ‎December ‎16, ‎2022, ‏‎3:00:18 AM]]

[crookedjellyfishnerd]

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Even when formerly incarcerated men and women do obtain work, it is normally on a portion-time or occasional basis, specifically for girls of color. This graph consists of only these people who have identified function to see the complete breakdown of employment outcomes by race and gender , see the Appendix. Right after disaggregating by race and gender, on the other hand, we discovered that the unemployment price of every formerly incarcerated group remains larger than that of any comparable group in the general public. Higher unemployment amongst formerly incarcerated persons is not basically explained by the overrepresentation of persons of color in the criminal justice method it is the status of getting formerly incarcerated that sets them apart. In the common public, men and women of color tend to face higher unemployment prices than whites, though guys have a tendency to have lower unemployment prices than girls.

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We are looking for an Operations Executive who communicates with management customers to create operations objectives. Need to have superb communication interpersonal abilities two. Thorough know-how knowledge in Microsoft Excel, as nicely as other M... The candidate really should have great communication abilities and he should have convincing power to handle the team and produce a superior enterprise.

Students could want to contemplate these jobs for prospective career directions, Lee added. "These are the ones that will continue to be very good for a when," he stated. "These are ones that girls are generating inroads in, and that really should inform you that barriers that may perhaps have existed are disappearing."

According to a recentNational Association of Colleges and Employers salary survey, the general typical salary for college graduates is about $50,000 per year. Here are some of the highest paid jobs you can do with no needing a degree, showing the average salaries. A vocational degree is a qualification awarded to students who have completed the academic requirements for a particular trade or career. Americans of all ages want to know how very best to grow their wealth over the long term, and that is exactly where monetary advisors fill a need. Females interested in this rapid-expanding profession have to have degrees in finance and significant finance knowledge, which comes with age.

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