#Malay Tiger

[chimaeraonwards]

Pendatang and why I think it's important for the fight against censorship

Malaysia's first fully crowd funded film is finally out and its free on YouTube!!!

(btw its fully subtitled in English, Malay, Chinese (Simplified), and Tamil for those who want it)

Pendatang by Kuman Pictures is set in a dystopian future where, due to racial extremism, Malaysia is fully segregated. Citizens live in their own areas based on their race and mixing between the races is punishable by 25 years in prison.

The story centers around a Malaysian Chinese family who is forced to relocate to a designated house by the authorities but they find a Malay girl hiding in their attic.

Anyone who is familiar with the Malaysian film scene would be wondering, "A Malaysian movie about race and inequality? How the fuck did this movie get through the censorship board?". Well, easy. They didn't even try.

In the name of keeping peace in the country, The Malaysian Film Censorship Board (Lembaga Penapis Filem - LPF) is notorious for censoring local movies to the point it loses its impact or keeping movies in a limbo for years. But films need LPF's approval to be able to release theatrically local cinemas.

The makers of Pendatang knew that this film wouldn't have made it past the censorship board or any other kinds of local governmental/commercial release or funding channel. So from the start, they set out to crowd fund this movie to release it for free online - where the LPF has no jurisdiction.

They managed to raise past their goal of RM300k (which is about slightly less than 100k USD). And one year later, they've kept their word - the movie is available on YouTube for free with no ads (making it a non-profit movie).

This is what the makers have to say about this move and what they hope it achieves:

So not only is it a badass move to bypass censorship and non-profit, its also a ground breaker and this opens up a whole new avenue for Malaysian filmmakers.

But it can't be that bad, can it? Well here are some films that weren't so lucky with the LPF.

Mentaga Terbang a story about a young girl's religious journey after her mother's passing to find out what happens after death. It was banned in Malaysia.

Tiger Stripes, the Cannes award winning teenage body horror film detailing a girl's journey with womanhood. It was so heavily cut by LPF that the filmmaker has disowned the censored version and has come out to say that essence was removed from the movie.

Spilt Gravy on Rice is a dark comedy based on a play of the same name. It is a story about a journalist who is close to death and decides to fix his family issues with his 5 kids who all have different mothers. The film was submitted for approval in 2012 and was forced to make changes (including an alternate ending) and was finally approved in 2020. Due to covid, the premiere was delayed till 2022. The original playwright, Jit Murad, passed earlier that year and never got to see his story in the big screen. You can find the film with its original ending on Netflix now.

This is why a movie like Pendatang is so important. Some suspect that Pendatang will be taken down or blocked by the government. I hope it won't.

Malaysian filmmakers want to share good stories that shouldn't be watered down. Malaysian voices want to be heard and shouldn't be unnecessarily filtered and censored.

[mapsontheweb]

The Wallace Line - the invisible barrier through the entire Malay Archipelago keeping two world apart.

" In between two of the islands of Indonesia, there's an ancient line that is both real and not real. You can't see it, but it's there all the same. If you stood on the coast of Bali and looked east to the shores of Lombok, you'd be staring right at the line's narrowest point: a 32 km stretch of water that seems pretty unassuming. This invisible barrier weaves its way through the entire Malay Archipelago, the largest collection of islands on the planet.

See, on the western side, the animal life is characteristic of Asia, featuring rhinos, elephants, tigers and woodpeckers, to name a few. But cross the line, and things suddenly change. You won't find those same species on the eastern side. Instead, the island have a totally different cast of ecological characters, including marsupials, Komodo dragons, cockatoons, and honeyeaters.

This is what scientists call a biogeographic boundry, the meeting point of two regions of biodiversity that are highly distinct. "

Source: yt's channel PBS Eons:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTK_bC00ilg

[miyaheestar]

Audio RP | Meeting Your Martial Arts Teacher For The First Time [M4F]

AAA I finally got the chance to make more of my ocs cassette!! Meet Ashraf! He's a tiger shifter and fully malaysian (he born in malaysia then moved to dahlia due to some personal issues)

Malaysia's national animal is a tiger and I think it'd be great to make Ashraf who is fully malaysian :D

Ashraf taught a martial art called Silat Melayu which translated to Malay Silat!

Thank you again @mokozroach for the template!! MWAHH

[pinoy-culture]

🌙✨️ I recently got asked on Facebook, "How would our pre-colonial ancestors know what a lion was?" They brought up a good point, as lions don't exist in the Philippines. So how was Arimaonga seen as lion like?

Well, while today Arimaonga is seen as a giant playful lion, they originally were a tiger.

Ok, but Ligaya, there are no tigers in the Philippines. True, today there aren't any native species of tigers. However, doesn't mean they didn't exist before. Excavations in Palawan have unearthed bone fragments of a tiger that once roamed the island of Palawan. Whose to say that they didn't also reach the other islands of what is now known as the Philippines?

Further more, we can look to linguistics. Arimaonga derives from the Malay word, "harimau" which means tiger. It's no coincidence as Malay was the lingua franca of maritime Southeast Asia, including the Philippines. Historical records state that our ancestors, especially those who were traders, spoke Malay, as they were able to understand and communicate with those from other islands in maritime SEA.

And that's today's lesson on mythologies from the Philippines. 🇵🇭

__________

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[handweavers]

Do you have a favorite kind of plant? A favorite tree?

chinese hibiscus are my favourite flowers, next to star jasmine and tiger lilies. all grow in my grandparents' yard in malaysia ❤️

in a wider scope, i study dye plants and trees and thus the plants i can identify and feel most connected to are dye precursors, especially those used traditionally across southeast asia. when i think of my favourite trees i think of all these tropical hardwoods and plants. so here is a non-exhaustive list of southeast asian dye plants:

🌻 sappanwood (biancaea sappan) also called brazilwood not to be confused with another, different tree also called brazilwood; it was taken from southeast asia by the portuguese and brought with them to the americas - red, pink, purple

🌻 indigo (called tagom or tagum in various filipino languages, tarum in malay) - blue, blue, blue, there are several species but japanese indigo as well as a few other varieties are commonly grown

🌻 annatto seed (this is the most common of filipino dyes from what i've read) - yellow, orange, red 

narra woodchips (national tree of the philippines) - brown, red, pink, pinkish brown 

asthma plant (tawa-tawa) - yellow

indian almond tree (talisay) - the roots, leaves, bark, all rich with tannins, yellow dye naturally but can give greys and blacks

mahogany (mahoni in malay) - reddish brown

taro plant (called gabi, aba, abalong) - leaves give yellowish green

🌻 turmeric root (kunyit in malay) - yellow. not very lightfast so usually combined with other dyes

🌻 ceriops tagal (mangrove - soga tinggi in indonesian) - reddish rusty warm brown, a vital and very rare dye now due to deforestation. the dyers in bali i know who use it source it from a fair trade org in papua that harvests small, controlled amounts. i have been very lucky to use this and the colour is magnificent

yellow flamboyant bark or yellow flame (soga jambal in indonesian, peltophorum pterocarpum) - warm yellow to red to dark brown, using peeled bark

cudrania javanensis (tegeran in indonesian) wood - yellow

🌻 cockspur thorn (maclura cochinchinensis) - yellow, very strong high quality yellow

mango - leaves, bark, peels give yellow, especially when processed as lake pigment

angsana - wood shavings make honey brown

🌻 jackfruit heartwood - clear strong yellow

🌻 symplocos - natural bio-accumulator of aluminum, used as a mordant in dyeing

🌻 fire flame bush (woodfordia fruticosa) - flowers contain strong tannins, combined with mangrove mud and fermented to raise the iron in the mixture to create a dye that is the primary traditional way of achieving grey through black

pandan leaves, mangosteen leaves and peels, cassava leaves, and lemongrass are all also used as dye plants. i have seen recipes where cassava leaves and mango leaves are pounded together in water and left to ferment in the sun to create yellows and greens

🌻 = i have personally dyed with these

[transgenderer]

Amok, or running amok, is derived from the Malay word mengamok, which means to make a furious and desperate charge. Captain Cook is credited with making the first outside observations and recordings of amok in the Malay tribesmen in 1770 during his around-the-world voyage. He described the affected individuals as behaving violently without apparent cause and indiscriminately killing or maiming villagers and animals in a frenzied attack. Amok attacks involved an average of 10 victims and ended when the individual was subdued or “put down” by his fellow tribesmen, and frequently killed in the process. According to Malay mythology, running amok was an involuntary behavior caused by the “hantu belian,” or evil tiger spirit entering a person's body and compelling him or her to behave violently without conscious awareness. Because of their spiritual beliefs, those in the Malay culture tolerated running amok despite its devastating effects on the tribe.

im not sure its tolerated?

Amok typically takes place in a well-populated or crowded area. Amok episodes of this kind normally end with the attacker being killed by bystanders or committing suicide, eliciting theories that amok may be a form of intentional suicide in cultures where suicide is heavily stigmatized.[12] Those who do not commit suicide and are not killed typically lose consciousness, and upon regaining consciousness, claim amnesia.

they usually die!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for wanting a challenge?

I'm a very experienced hunter. Tigers, lions, elephants, rhinoceros, you name it, I've hunted it. It's getting a little dull.

But I have this clever new idea. I bought this island with some dangerous shoals on its coast, and I put a bunch of lights on it, and boom! Ships crash, I rescue the survivors, and then I offer them the choice to be hunted for sport, or not. Humans are smarter than snow leopards, it's been a lot of fun!

So that's all well and good, but here's where I might be the asshole. I met a man who fell off a ship recently, and it turns out he's someone I've heard all about and have a great deal of respect for! An expert hunter like myself! I was pretty excited to meet him, but he got all judgmental about my hunting people.

Anyway, I figure an expert hunter will make for an even better quarry. But he's pretty mad about this, even though I gave him my very best knife and promised to only use my worst gun. He said I'm The Asshole. Am I?

EDIT: He nearly got me with a Malay man-catcher trap! This is so much fun.

[lingkaranitubumi]

So BG3 is currently holding a chokehold on me and I can't help but think of hetasean dnd au. I'll try to limit this to PHB and 5e for simplicity reasons. also sorry I'm not a seasoned DND player at all i played one casual campaign but only actually understood the mechanics after playing bg3 LOL im a highly kinetic-visual person

Vietnam: Any tanky build will do as such I was thinking an atheist paladin would be funny lol. She is definitely the one with the most hands-on experience in battle. Proficient with polearms and shields. I see her more leaning towards martial classes, so like barbarian or fighter. probably fighter. Looks Lawful but actually Chaotic. Hmm... maybe Neutral Good?

Thailand: Monk for the muay thai coolness. Not sure about his subclass tho... most of them don't sound lethal and brutal enough. Definitely Lawful Evil.

Malaysia: At first I was thinking of a gunslinger build (just so I can give him a loooooong boy ala Malacca era) but the fighter subclass, because he doesn't come off as the artificer type to me. Either that or barbarian for the tiger rage. Now him being a druid would allow him to actually turn into a tiger, but honestly Mal as a character doesn't seem so druid-y to me--Oh wait. he skips meetings to catch sea creatures and talks about social harmony... maybe he could be a druid. Chaotic Good.

Singapore: Any class that relies on high INT, like wizard . Ok I said I'd limit to PHB but war magic is so him. The other schools just doesn't scream poisoned shrimp enough for me. Lawful Neutral.

Indonesia: At first I was thinking of cleric to match his worldflags counterpart but Indo as a warlock is a delicious thought. Besides, Pact of Talisman mechanic sounds like typical indo black magic shenanigans. Of course the talisman must be a haunted ornate keris. Then later another idea came: what if he's a multiclass bard-monk?? The mechanics match up with pesilat Betawi as it's tradition to roast your opp with pantun (type of Malay poem) before commencing the beating. So like, Vicious Mockery -> Flurry of Blows . but if Thai is already a monk, Indo will have to relinquish that role for diversity reasons. I'm on the fence between True Neutral and Chaotic Neutral.

Philippines: Him being a bard is a no-brainer because filipinos and singing!!11!!! also after playing a bard, there seem to be more of roasting a dude than singing But hear me out: deadly dex-based fighter. Or since he already has Pien, why not a beast master ranger? If we really need to play that Catholic Trauma™ then Piri could be a cleric. never paladin tho. Two-weapon proficiency, twin blades because he's a gemini. Same alignment as Indo awww twinning!!! but leaning more on chaotic

this is still a brainstorming post maaaaybe I'll draw their designs some day...... what do y'all think???? I'd like to hear some suggestions 🙌

[herpsandbirds]

Love your blog (from a bird/biology lover)! May I ask what your favourite obscure/'weird' bird is, and what your favourite parrot/s is/are?

(And have you heard of the Malay lacewing? It looks really pretty!)

Thank you so much :3

It's always hard for me to answer these questions. I really love so many species so much that it's hard to narrow it down.

Obscure birds, off the top of my head: Schlegel’s Asity, Bornean Bristlehead, and the Rockfowl (Picathartes spp.).

Tinamous are also quite nice! The bf and I had a nice time watching them in Yasuni NP. (I still haven't gotten around to including them on the blog yet).

Parrots... Fan Parrot, Kakapo, and Plum-headed Parakeet.

Yes, I do know the asian lacewings (Cethosia spp.). So far, I have only posted the Tiger Lacewing, but for you I will also post the Malayan.

Cheers!

[arthistoryanimalia]

#ManuscriptMonday:

Illustration of forest animals from an 1805 Javanese illuminated manuscript of Serat Panji Jaya Kusuma: elephant, tiger, banteng, wild boar, and two deer.

British Library MSS Jav 68 f.42r

"...a Javanese manuscript of Serat Panji Jaya Kusuma dated 1805 (MSS Jav 68), which is shown open at a scene (identified by Lydia Kieven) where Sekartaji and her servant (emban) approach the forest filled with animals including an elephant, tiger, banteng, wild boar and two deer. This tale is one of many versions of the adventures of Prince Panji in his search for his beloved Princess Candrakirana. Stories of Prince Panji date back to the 13th century, and mark the beginnings of a truly Javanese literature no longer overshadowed by the great Indian epics Ramayana and Mahabharata. Panji tales are found not only in Java but were also translated into Malay, Balinese, Thai, Lao, Khmer and Burmese."

info via https://blogs.bl.uk/asian-and-african/2017/07/animals-in-southeast-asian-manuscripts.html

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

On the Tide - Chapter Eight “The Sea is a Desert of Waves, a Wilderness of Water.”

A friendly face is found in the back alleys of an Indonesian town, and Win's safety is compromised. CW; Discussions of finning and endangered animal trade. Implied drugging, implied kidnapping/ransom. Prompts used; - ‘Dancing Together’ – @fandom-free-bingo, Frosty Edition; - “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished”, “Violence for Violence is the Rule of Beasts”, “You Brought This on Yourself”, ‘Held for Ransom’, ‘Stalking’ – Fandom-Free Bingo, Flight Edition; - ‘Scalloped Hammerhead’, ‘Oceanic Whitetip Shark’, ‘Matakam Dolphin’, ‘Sand Tiger Shark’, ‘Atlantic Humpback Whale’, ‘Blue-Spotted Tree Monitor’ – Fandom-Free Bingo, Wild Edition; - ‘Items Being Moved Around’ – @halloweenhorrorbingo .

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Boards at the bottom, divider by yours truly <3

By the time we decked in port, my heart rate had settled somewhat – though my knees were still trembling as I helped tie off the lines. I stood for a moment, gazing at our small vessel, taking in the smattering of bullet holes along the hull as my own wound ached.

It may not look like much… But it’s home now.

Even my muscles knew that I didn’t belong on land anymore, tensing automatically to correct me against movement that didn’t exist.

Captain Tyne came up beside me, barely hesitating before linking his fingers with mine. “Have you ever been to Indonesia?” he inquired absently, his thumb skimming over the back of my hand as we moved forward, passing from the relative uniformity of the small port and into the uneven alleys lined with crates and boxes, the smell of animal waste making my stomach curl.

“It doesn’t seem like I’ve missed anything,” I muttered, glancing about myself, and he smiled.

“Most of it is beautiful – but we dock here for a reason.”

I raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but he said nothing more, just led the way into a crowded market full of bustle and vendors shouting in a multitude of languages.

“What reason is that?” I prompted softly as we slipped between customer and seller bargaining in rapid Thai.

He pulled me closer to the nearest stall, using the pressing crowds as a convenient excuse to hold me flush against his side, inclining his head toward the merchandise. “Intel.”

I followed his indication, bile rising in my throat at the sight before me. I might not know Indonesian, rendering the signs useless in aiding my understanding – but I had done enough research before joining the crew to recognise the macabre butchery before me.

Scalloped Hammerhead.

Oceanic Whitetip.

Mahakam.

Sand Tiger.

“These are all endangered,” I muttered under my breath, fury sparking in my veins at the spectacle, tracing my finger mournfully across the detached fin of an Atlantic Humpback as Greg nodded stiffly, leaning forward and testing several languages before settling on Malay, speaking with quiet, rapid urgency. The merchant opened his mouth furiously, but the Lieutenant simply spoke faster, one hand subtly slipping between them. The seller’s face cleared, then paled, and he nodded once, muttering back and inching away uncertainly. My Captain nodded over his shoulder, and two of my crewmates descended from the crowd, hurriedly tipping the contents of several of the merchant’s half-crates into their sacks. The man simply inclined his head in begrudging gratitude, and Greg steered me quickly away as his crewmen dissolved wordlessly back into the masses.

“What just happened?” I pressed under my breath, and he shot me a half grin.

“Our notoriety proceeds us,” he offered as we left the bustling market behind, fingers finding mine once. “Sellers are often willing to rat out their suppliers and give up their wares with a little… Persuasion.” He raised his other hand, revealing a flip-style badge emblazoned with the words ‘Shark Defence Initiative’. “We won’t have them making their money on the slaughter, but they get to trade their freedom for information.”

“Won’t they just go back to trafficking the moment we leave?” I asked, frowning, and he shrugged.

“We have a network. Folks that check in on the sellers we’ve interacted with, gather intel of their own…” Glancing at me, he shot me a smirk. “You’d be surprised by how infrequently those sellers go back to trafficking. I think the fear of being arrested is pretty motivating.”

I nodded slowly, impressed – and somewhat daunted – by the level of organisation and consideration that the SDI had put into their actions. They were often reported to be chaotic, poorly-planned – but here was the evidence to the contrary.

Is it possible that they cultivate this image of chaos as a deception? A ruse, to lull their enemies into a false sense of security?

I considered my Captain once more, his pace slowing as we returned once more to paved streets lined with stores. “… How long have you been with the Initiative?”

“Two years,” he replied easily, entirely at ease in the foreign maze.

“It’s only been active for three, right?” I clarified, and he waggled a hand thoughtfully.

“In an official capacity – yes,” he smiled, “but the folks who founded it were playing pirate long before that. They just made it a little more… Structured.”

“Has it changed much? Since you joined?”

He hummed under his breath, lips skimming my temple. “Yes… And no. We’ve gone from one ship to four, and we have a much broader web of informants… But the fundamentals haven’t changed at all. To protect, at any cost.”

I smiled wryly, inclining my head with curiosity. “When I first met you… It seemed you hated this life.”

Shaking his head quickly, he began to guide me down a side street, silent as he considered his answer.

“I love this life,” he replied eventually, lips still quirked down in a thoughtful frown. “I love making a difference – giving life instead of taking it. I love being back on the ocean and travelling the world…” He cut himself off to sigh heavily, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “But I hate that this job comes with seeing the very worst and most cruel of humanity on a daily basis. I hate that 80% of our new recruits can’t hack it and we have to go through the process all over again. I hate that I have to put my crew in danger – that their very lives are at risk – every time we try to do the right thing. And I despise that it’s necessary at all. I love this job, Win. I just hate that it needs to exist.”

I nodded slowly, offering his fingers a squeeze, and he shot me a weak smile. “Come on. We’re only ashore for a few days – let’s go find some good food, good drinks, and good beds.”

The night was winding down by the time he nervously leant closer, the smell of fruity juices on his breath making me smile. When I told him I didn’t drink anymore – after a rough few years while I grappled with my trauma – he’d immediately rescinded his original order of beer, despite my protests that I had no objection to his consumption.

“I… I can get you your own, if you like,” he murmured, and I blinked in surprise at the light flush colouring his cheeks.

“I’m… Good? I’m still nursing this one,” I offered uncertainly, pointedly raising my half-full glass, and watching with amusement as the unanticipated blush grew deeper.

“A room, I meant,” he clarified quietly, the tips of his ears flushing beetroot when I laughed in shock. “O-Or you can have my cabin, or-”

I silenced him with a quick kiss, squeezing his fingers. “I want to stay with you,” I reassured him softly, feeling a gentle blush colour my cheeks, eyes lowered shyly.

He brought my hand to his face, lips skimming over my knuckles tenderly. “I’d be honoured,” he whispered, gaze finding mine as his smooth, suave confidence returned. The track overhead changed to something somewhat slower, but with a pulsing beat that made my bones tremble, and he grinned. “May I have this dance, Snowflake?”

I felt my flush deepen as I nodded, letting him lead me through to the makeshift dance floor – a space simply cleared of seating, where a number of couples were already moving together. I knew how to dance, but not to this; my life was limited to a box step and slow-dancing, picked up over the years. He raised an eyebrow at my hesitation, using his grip on my fingers to pull me flush against his chest. “Don’t you worry, baby boy… I’ve got you.”

With a soft purr, I rested my cheek gently on his chest for a moment before letting him guide me into a quick eight-beat, his hands on my hips easing me into a gyrating, sensual movement. I gasped in surprise as he turned me quickly, fingertips digging into my flesh lightly as we moved in unison. It was until his lips found my throat and I moaned under my breath, the sound causing a subtle, unconscious twitch in his hips, that I became around of his arousal pressing against my ass, making my face heat once more.

But despite my shyness, my uncertainty, I reached back to tangle a hand in his hair, earning a sharp gasp when I shifted firmly against him, his grip hardening automatically. “You don’t have to do that,” he breathed, sending goosebumps along my neck with his breath.

“I know,” I whispered softly, grinding a little harder, head falling back against his shoulder.

I want to.

I felt… Powerful, knowing that this man – this beautiful, strong, charismatic man – was aroused by me, even if it was strictly in terms of physical stimulation rather than actual attraction.

But from the way his muscles flexed, hands hard on my skin, I found myself believing that attraction really did play a part.

It wasn’t just want.

He wanted me.

He stiffened minutely, and I turned my head to follow his gaze as she looked away, brow furrowed. “What is it?” I pressed softly, and he frowned, nodding towards a pair of men in the corner a few feet away, talking in quick, hushed words that I could not comprehend. I cocked my head in confusion, and he flicked his eyes to me, his hearing still fully concentrated on the conversation. “My Bugis is patchy… But they’re discussing a trade. Reptiles. Lizards, I think.” His eyes widened, and he paled. “Blue-spotted tree monitors. Infants. Live ones,” he added at a growl, eyes flashing. I felt his fingers curl in anger against my sides and kissed his cheek gently as the pair headed toward the door. “Go,” I breathed, digits lacing with his to squeeze reassuringly. He hesitated, and I nodded encouragingly. “Go. I’ll be fine. I’ll wait here, okay? Go and be… You, Lieutenant Tyne.”

He smiled and kissed me quickly, eyes already shifting to the exist as he backed away. “Thank you, Snowflake.”

My heart fluttered a little in my chest, and I offered him a tender smile as he began to back from view.

“Stay safe, Captain.”

I sat nursing my soda, simply enjoying the passage of time in the bustling space, absently watching patrons go about their business and their lives with a sense of content satisfaction. I could see what Greg had meant when he spoke of the job – the fact that it was needed it was horrible, but it was one I was proud to do.

Every now and then, I glanced around, the hair on the back of my neck prickling with the unexplainable sensation of being observed, but I never found eyes on me, and eventually I stopped looking, shrugging as I decided it was simply an effect of being around so many people against after so long at sea with the same small handful.

I was on my third drink when someone approached, boots pausing at the edge of my eyeline from where I gazed, unfocused, at the table. Glancing up, I found a man stood beside me, no older than twenty, with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Can I help you?” I prompted, polite but nervous, and his lips quirked at the edges.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? The SDI?” he murmured shyly, scuffing his feet, a hint of a French accent in the words that made me smile.

Someone else far from home.

I nodded, offering him a reassuring grin. “I am… Why do you ask?”

His face lit up, and he blushed with enthusiastic excitement. “Can I buy you a drink? I’d love to hear more about it!”

With a laugh, I extended a hand to my Captain’s vacated chair. “You’d be very welcome.”

“Didn’t someone once say ‘violence for violence is the rule of beasts’?”

I chuckled wryly, leaning back in my seat to assess the youth – Frank, he’d informed me when prompted, a seventeen year old runaway. “Sometimes violence is the only answer. Folks have tried the nice approach for decade; it’s helped, for sure, but it hasn’t been enough. Populations are still falling – and for what? So some rich asshole half a world away can have his soup with a side of ego?” I shook my head with a sigh. “It’s just so… Asinine. It can’t be allowed to continue – and that’s what the SDI is all about.”

A soft smile graced my lips as I noted distantly that the speech was startlingly similar to the one Neri had given to me. Only a few months ago, I realised abruptly, tipping my head back to drain the last of my glass.

It feels like a lifetime.

“Another?” he pressed, and I laughed.

“You still have questions?”

“Tons,” he replied immediately, grinning, and I shook my head fondly.

“I need to run to the bathroom – again,” I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Guess I’m not used to free access to liquids anymore!”

Even after all the time – and being built as I now was – I still got a flutter of anxiety in public restrooms, glancing over my shoulder for any sign that I should be concerned. The feeling of being watched was still there, burning a hole in the back of my head, but I couldn’t see anyone, no matter how many times I looked around.

Nudging my way into the bathroom, I curled my lip at the smell of alcohol and urine, shaking my head.

No matter where you go in the world, one thing is always the same… The gents on a Friday night.

The space was empty as I went to wash my hands, and the sound of the door banging made me jump, gaze shooting up to the mirror before me to lock eyes with a man over my shoulder. His presence behind me made me nervous, but I met the dark gaze steadily and offered a silent, polite smile. He simply stared back evenly until I looked away, heat prickling up the back of my neck at his intensity.

Hands clean, I went to brush past him, jerking away as he leant closer, his breath hot on my face. It wasn’t until I’d pushed by in a panic, desperate to get away from the sudden, startling proximity, that the fact that he’d spoken began to register in my mind.

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

I was still shaken by the time I returned to my seat, thoughts leaping between trains of thought, and I frowned as I reached absently for the strap of my holdall.

“I moved it out of the way. Here – I got you another drink,” Frank added quickly, sliding a glass across the table toward me. Any questions were pushed from my mind as I glanced over shoulder, watching as the man from the bathroom disappeared into the crowd.

“I… Yeah. Thanks.” My fingers found the glass, raising it instinctively to my mouth as my eyes continued to survey the throngs.

“It’s getting pretty loud in here, huh?”

Gaze flicking to Frank, I took him in once more, struggling to shift my focus back to the youth before me. My thoughts were disjointed and scattered, and I could only nod, scarcely registering that he’d spoken. “Shall we go someplace quieter so we can keep talking?”

Another nod, easily agreeable in my distraction, and I stood as he did, eyes slowly lowering as I followed him with utter compliance through the press of patrons, fractured thoughts straining to latch on to something solid.

There’s something I’m forgetting. I’m forgetting something important, I think… I just can’t find it…

I stumbled as he led me out of the door, narrower than I remembered, the street beyond darker, more enclosed, than I thought, littered with empty bottles and scraps of food ground into broken cobbles. Frank turned to face me, a frown creasing his expression as he weaved worryingly. “You okay, man? You’re not looking so hot.”

I nodded absently, metal palm meeting the wall with a dull thud when my feet reacted too slowly to catch me as I tried to step forward. “Fine, I…” Words died on my tongue as it turned to lead, and I could only grunt, sinking slowly to my knees, vision turning dark around the edges.

A hand found my shoulder heavily, and I fought against the increasing crush of gravity to raise my head, attempting to peer through the dense fog to follow the tanned arm attached to the vice-like grip on me – but before I could see anything beyond weather-worn skin and a multitude of scars, my sight failed me, eyes rolling back as I slumped hard to the ground.

“About time. Get him up. This’ll teach that anjing perek to stay out of our business.” Hands under my arms hoisted me upright, taking the entirety of my weight as my consciousness ebbed and my feet dragged uselessly behind me.

As I snatched distantly at the dregs of reality, the last thing I felt was warm breath on my cheek, the same man who’d issued orders whispering in my ear.

“You brought this on yourself.”

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

October 31st, 1872: Singapore

The “Rangoon” weighed anchor at Singapore the next day at four a.m., to receive coal, having gained half a day on the prescribed time of her arrival. Phileas Fogg noted this gain in his journal, and then, accompanied by Aouda, who betrayed a desire for a walk on shore, disembarked.

Fix, who suspected Mr. Fogg’s every movement, followed them cautiously, without being himself perceived; while Passepartout, laughing in his sleeve at Fix’s manœuvres, went about his usual errands.

The island of Singapore is not imposing in aspect, for there are no mountains; yet its appearance is not without attractions. It is a park checkered by pleasant highways and avenues. A handsome carriage, drawn by a sleek pair of New Holland horses, carried Phileas Fogg and Aouda into the midst of rows of palms with brilliant foliage, and of clove-trees, whereof the cloves form the heart of a half-open flower. Pepper plants replaced the prickly hedges of European fields; sago-bushes, large ferns with gorgeous branches, varied the aspect of this tropical clime; while nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air with a penetrating perfume. Agile and grinning bands of monkeys skipped about in the trees, nor were tigers wanting in the jungles.

After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg returned to the town, which is a vast collection of heavy-looking, irregular houses, surrounded by charming gardens rich in tropical fruits and plants; and at ten o’clock they re-embarked, closely followed by the detective, who had kept them constantly in sight.

Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen mangoes—a fruit as large as good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour outside and a bright red within, and whose white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords gourmands a delicious sensation—was waiting for them on deck. He was only too glad to offer some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked him very gracefully for them.

At eleven o’clock the “Rangoon” rode out of Singapore harbour, and in a few hours the high mountains of Malacca, with their forests, inhabited by the most beautifully-furred tigers in the world, were lost to view. Singapore is distant some thirteen hundred miles from the island of Hong Kong, which is a little English colony near the Chinese coast. Phileas Fogg hoped to accomplish the journey in six days, so as to be in time for the steamer which would leave on the 6th of November for Yokohama, the principal Japanese port.

The “Rangoon” had a large quota of passengers, many of whom disembarked at Singapore, among them a number of Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen, Malays, and Portuguese, mostly second-class travellers.

The weather, which had hitherto been fine, changed with the last quarter of the moon. The sea rolled heavily, and the wind at intervals rose almost to a storm, but happily blew from the south-west, and thus aided the steamer’s progress. The captain as often as possible put up his sails, and under the double action of steam and sail the vessel made rapid progress along the coasts of Anam and Cochin China. Owing to the defective construction of the “Rangoon,” however, unusual precautions became necessary in unfavourable weather; but the loss of time which resulted from this cause, while it nearly drove Passepartout out of his senses, did not seem to affect his master in the least. Passepartout blamed the captain, the engineer, and the crew, and consigned all who were connected with the ship to the land where the pepper grows. Perhaps the thought of the gas, which was remorselessly burning at his expense in Saville Row, had something to do with his hot impatience.

“You are in a great hurry, then,” said Fix to him one day, “to reach Hong Kong?”

“A very great hurry!”

“Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?”

“Terribly anxious.”

“You believe in this journey around the world, then?”

“Absolutely. Don’t you, Mr. Fix?”

“I? I don’t believe a word of it.”

“You’re a sly dog!” said Passepartout, winking at him.

This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why. Had the Frenchman guessed his real purpose? He knew not what to think. But how could Passepartout have discovered that he was a detective? Yet, in speaking as he did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed.

[jb-nonsense]

ok I am putting names through the google translator (since it's google, it may not be correct but it's very fun)

Leeloa Ke'Ta- instructed (Sesotho) but he (Chinese (simplified))

Praz - leek (Romanian)

Kayree- Carrie (Hindi) (????)

Solvi Itera - to solve (Esperanto) it causes (Kinyarwanda)

Aeris - Air (Latin)

Basimah Ke'Ta - Then (Luganda (From Basima) but he (Chinese (simplified))

Janesa La'Qar - nothing for first, no tar (Arabic)

Kero - Nuisance (Swahili)

Koleesh Nyn- college (Somali) now (Czech)

Meella Q'arno - Place (Somali) core (Frisian (based on pronunciation))

Mirshko Jeban - nothing for first, damn (Cebuano)

Panzar Kreeg - this is funny because I took German Panter (panther) and German Krieg (war) for his name but nothing came up for Panzar and Kreeg is got in Dutch

Deiv Lji - was anyone gonna tell me when I originalized this, it became virgin in multiple Balkan languages instead of the what I was going for which was Divlji (Wild) from Croatian

Erik Balise - nothing for first, Tag (French)

Q'Enia Lo'Mak- Entity (Albanian) spicy (Malay)

Rees Dival - nothing for first, Wall (Hindi)

Virva Barane - Power (Finnish) it's raining (Kurdish)

Beau Ceptor - nothing for first, Catcher (Latin)

Lamoc - the Power (Czech) or mosquitos (Filipino (change c to k))

Kazane - Saying (Bulgarian)

Chernik - comes for Chernika, which is blueberry (Russian (put the a at the end))

Tygra Sharek - tiger (Czech) east (Arabic)

[lowcountry-gothic]

A lot of people seem to know about how crazy bird names can be, but I never see anyone talking about butterfly names. Here’s a list of butterflies I encountered in a single session of browsing iNaturalist:

Chocolate Tiger, Vagrant, Chestnut Bob, Fluffy Tit, Grass Demon, Singleton, Wizard, Constable, Ultra Snow Flat, Small Leopard, Autumn Leaf, Forest Quaker, Elbowed Pierrot, Plains Cupid, Knight, Commander, Cornelian, Short-banded Sailor, Powdered Baron, Copper Flash, Circe, Psyche, Wanderer, Horsfield’s Baron, Malay Viscount, Broad Striped Faun, Common Duffer, Spot Puffin, Lemon Migrant, Staff Sergeant, Tawny Rajah, Brown Pansy, Orange Albatross,, Hieroglyphic Flat, The Commodore, and Punchinello.

[aroundtheworldin214days]

May 12, 2023 - Day 138

Langkawi, Malaysia

Langkawi is a duty free island and a archipelago of 99 islands located 19 miles of the coast of north western Malaysia. Langkawi means “Island of the reddish brown eagle”. The symbol of Langkawi is a sculpture of a eagle at Dataran Helang (Eagle Square) in Kuah. I put a photo of the huge eagle below.

The island is 70% natural environment, the climate is hot and then hotter, the main industry is tourism, rubber, rice and fishing. With a population of 120,000 people the language is Malay then English. The whole island is duty free and things a very cheap. I bought some Tiger beer for 75 cents a bottle and Coca Cola was 25 cents a can. The currency is a ringet with 4 ringets to the dollar. Cobras are common there are two species of monkey and two types of dolphin a pink and a black.

We visited a rubber plantation, several museums and a shopping area. It is a nice small island with not many people and things are inexpensive.

[transgenderer]

The phrase “run amok” comes from Malaysia, where it referred to a specific phenomenon: some person who had been unhappy for a long time would suddenly snap, kill a bunch of people, then say they had no memory of doing it. Malaysian culture totally rolls with this and doesn’t hold it against them; the unhappiness is a risk factor for possession by a tiger spirit, which commits the killings. Although Malays have been doing this since at least the 1700s, there are some fascinating parallels with modern US mass shootings that suggest the damn tiger spirits have finally made it to the US common psychological origins.

scott is funny! i always forget scott is funny!