#Regional Development

[townpostin]

Shambhu Chaudhary to Contest for Jamshedpur West Assembly Seat

Jamshedpur Jan Kalyan Samiti nominates Shambhu Chaudhary for his dedication to public issues and regional development. The Jamshedpur Jan Kalyan Samiti has announced Shambhu Chaudhary as its candidate for the Jamshedpur West Assembly seat. JAMSHEDPUR – Shambhu Chaudhary has been officially proclaimed as the candidate of the Jamshedpur Jan Kalyan Samiti for the Jamshedpur West Assembly seat. The…

[princelobga]

Nachtigal Dam Injects First 60 Megawatts into Cameroon's Power Grid

Discover how Cameroon's Nachtigal Dam injects its first 60 megawatts into the national power grid, marking a significant milestone in the country's energy journey. #Cameroon #NachtigalDam #HydroelectricPower #EnergyInfrastructure #RegionalDevelopment

Cameroon’s quest for enhanced energy production took a significant stride as the Nachtigal Dam, a monumental hydroelectric project, injected its initial 60 megawatts (MW) into the Southern Interconnected Grid (RIS) on May 10, 2024. This momentous occasion was marked by the presence of the Minister of Water and Energy, Gaston Eloundou Essomba, along with other dignitaries. The Nachtigal project,…

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ladystoneboobs]

westerosi ruling ladies/acknowledged heiresses outside of dorne, listed by region:

the north

lady jonelle cerwyn, lady of castle cerwyn after the murder of her younger brother, lord cley cerwyn, by ramsay snow. (cley did not long outlive their father, lord medger cerwyn, who died of his wounds as a pow at harrenhal, after fighting in roose bolton's host when tywin lannister defeated them on the green fork.) we first hear of lady jonelle when robb stark calls his banners and lord cerwyn means to bring his old maid daughter with him, and the next we hear of her is when asha greyjoy gets her letter from ramsay, co-signed by a lady cerwyn and lady dustin, among the other northern lords in the bolton camp. cerwyn men-at-arms and the cerwyn maester are noted with roose at wf, and presumably if their lady did go south with her father, she must have returned north in roose bolton's party.

lady barbrey ryswell dustin, widow of the late lord willam dustin, apparently the last of his line since no surviving male dustins are ever mentioned. the widow of barrowton rules in his place for the remainder of her lifetime, and (unlike poor lady hornwood) rules with power uncontested, as barrowton's closest neighbors are the ryswells, also her closest kin, father and brothers. however, without any children from the late lord dustin, unclear what would happen after lady barbrey dies.

lady lyessa flint, head of the branch of house flint of widow's watch. lady flint's son, robin flint, led their forces in robb stark's army and died with the king at the red wedding, but was not the head of house. lady flint is listed such in the appendices, and was said to be pregnant in acok, meaning she likely had a living husband at the time, but he goes unnamed as only her consort.

lady alys karstark, heir to her eldest brother harrion karstark of karhold (whose location and current status is unclear after being captured by the lannisters a 2nd time), following the deaths of their brothers in the battle of the whispering wood, and the execution of their father by king robb as a murderer and traitor. at jon snow's instigation she has taken sigorn, magnar of thenn, as her consort.

lady wynafryd manderly, elder granddaughter of lord wyman manderly, by his son and heir ser wylis. should be the next heir to white harbor after her father, unless her parents should produce a son.

lady maege mormont of bear island, the only ruling lady listed here to also have a daughter as her heir. first this was dacey mormont, but after her murder at the red wedding, the new heir is second daughter alysanne aka aly the she-bear. but since aly told asha greyjoy she had a son as well as a daughter back home, that means there likely won't be a 3rd ruling lady in a row, as the mormonts may have a history of women warriors, but there's no sign they don't still practice male-preference primogeniture when there is a son to inherit. where the mormonts do step out of northern convention, however, is the ruling ladies fucking whoever they want without feeling the need for a husband and still naming their fatherless children mormonts, not snows, a practice rhaenyra targaryen would surely envy.

lady eddara tallhart, an heiress and then nominal ruler of torrhen's square, before the age of 10, after her elder brother benfred was killed by theon greyjoy's ironmen and then their father ser helman was killed when roose bolton sent him into an ambush at duskendale. listed as still a captive inside her family's seat, besieged by dagmer cleftjaw again, in the adwd appendix.

the riverlands

lady barbara bracken, eldest daughter of lord jonos bracken of stone hedge, who has multiple daughters by two of his three different wives, but no surviving sons.

lady amarei frey lannister, married to lancel lannister at castle darry as a granddaughter of a previous lord darry, then left to rule on her own after lancel abandoned her and repudiated their unconsummated marriage

lady eleanor mooton, eldest daughter of lord william mooton of maidenpool, listed as his heir in adwd appendix, at the time of her marriage to dickon tarly. (meaning presumably his sons mentioned in acok died during the war.)

lady carellen smallwood, (likely?) heir to acorn hall as the only known surviving child of lord and lady smallwood, whose only known son died years before.

lady liane vance, eldest daughter of lord karyl vance of house vance of wayfarer's rest, listed as his heir in the affc appendix

lady shella whent, last of the line of the whents of harrenhal, disposessed by tywin lannister, and allegedly dead by the time of affc, according to littlefinger. text is somewhat inconsistent on whether she or her husband inherited harrenhal, just as it's unknown what happened to all their children if they were the same whents hosting the tourney at harrenhal years before, nor even how they were related to minisa whent tully, the late lady of riverrun.

the vale

chella, daughter of cheyk, clan chief of the black ears

lady anya waynwood, lady of ironoaks, an older lady with multiple sons and grandsons still ruling in her own name, a formidable power in the vale, perhaps second only to the main branch of house royce as chief bannermen of house arryn

the westerlands

cersei lannister, lady of casterly rock as well as queen regent, following her father, lord tywin lannister, being murdered by her younger brother tyrion, an attainted traitor and fugitive, with her twin brother, jaime, unable to inherit as a knight of the kingsguard

lady alysanne lefford, lady of the golden tooth after lord leo lefford drowned in the battle of the fords against edmure tully's army. (whether the previous lord was her father, brother, or even uncle or cousin is unknown, all we know of her is her entry in the affc/adwd appendices after lord lefford's death in asos)

the reach

lady alysanne bulwer, the lady of blackcrown as the only known child of the late lord jon bulwer, frequently referred to as lady bulwer. (lady fatherslastname not being a style otherwise used with a lord's unmarried daughters, lady housesurname usually referring to a lord's wife using her husband's name). there is an inconsistency with taena merryweather telling cersei that there was talk of megga tyrell being betrothed to lady bulwer's brother (which a nondornish heiress cannot have and is not listed in any appendix), but this is either a mistake by grrm or misunderstanding by taena unless she's referring to an unknown brother of alysanne bulwer's mother, the last lady bulwer. (i'm taking multiple mentions of her as lady bulwer in sansa's pov over any gossip from taena.)

lady arwyn oakheart, lady of old oak, a widow with multiple grown sons who commanded her own forces in renly baratheon's army, even if she did not mean to fight on the field.

the crownlands

lady ermesand hayford, the last of the hayford line, a babe ruling in name only, married to the squire tyrek lannister before she was weaned, a husband now missing since his disappearence during the riot in kl on the day of princess myrcella's departure

the ladies tanda, falyse and lollys stokeworth, three would-be rulers of castle stokeworth dispossessed by the schemes of queen cersei and ser bronn of the blackwater. lady tanda ruled for years with falyse as her heir and younger daughter lollys as the only heir to the barren falyse, until such time as lollys was wed to bronn and lady tanda took a griveous fall from a horse. bronn started calling himself lord stokeworth when tanda and falyse were still alive, chasing off falyse after her husband attempted to kill him at cersei's behest. falyse died painfully in qyburn's dungeons, while tanda was left to die at castle stokeworth, making lollys even more a ruler in name only than baby lady hayford, as her husband is inside the castle with men loyal only to him, not to any stokeworth lady.

the stormlands

lady brienne of tarth, heir to lord selwyn tarth the evenstar as his only surviving child

lady mary mertyns, listed as lady of the mistwood in the adwd appendix

you'll notice the iron islands is the only (nondornish) region missing here. ofc they did have a possible heiress to pyke and all the isles but then asha greyjoy was soundly rejected as such at the kingsmoot after balon's death. the lack of other present-tl ruling ladies/acknowledged heirs afab may be down to this being the smallest region, aside from the crownlands. however, there are no historical ruling ladies in their section of the world book either, iirc.

AND there is another case of a possible heiress, again meaning asha, wrt harlaw. her uncle lord rodrik harlaw tried to dissaude her from the kingsmoot by offering to name her heir to his castle, while allowing a cousin to inherit all his other titles and power over the whole island of harlaw. but shouldn't asha have already been in line for all the harlaw lands and titles, above all the harlaw cousins? her aunt gwynesse's complaint of being the true heir as rodrik's elder sister may not work outside of dorne, but even on the nondornish mainland, a lord's sister (and therefore their children, ie asha) still come before a lord's uncles and cousins. isn't that the whole point of alys karstark's plight, that her older cousin had to marry her to try to claim her birthright? so the harlaw line of succession should go rodrik>gwynesse>alannys>asha before any cousins come into it.

that this would not be the case and that asha is only presented with the option of being lady of ten towers by doing homage to a cousin as her overlord for the whole island of harlaw suggests imo that the islands are particularly resistant to a woman as head of house, with all male kin following her in place of a patriarch. women may serve as castle stewards and the right sort may prove themselves as captains (not common, but not too rare either) but ruling on land, ruling over male kin, and fellow captains is a different matter. perhaps not too surprising from a people whose religon sees rape of foreign women as a key and holy part of their way of life. an ironwoman may not disapprove of her men doing so, but cannot fully participate without the cock to forcibly spread seed across the world. how can a captain who cannot fully perform manhood as the drowned god proscribes for his captains be rock king over any island, let alone all of them? in this light, balon's choice of asha as heir is even more radical, though likely it came not from a view of equality between the sexes but from a feeling that his own daughter was the very much singular special exception, more a son than greendlandized theon.

[mintjeru]

a lazy morning in fontaine

open for better quality | no reposts

[antidotefortheawkward-art]

妖族七大圣 Seven Great Sages of Yao Kind

[ID: A character line-up of the Seven Great Sages, left-to-right by seniority status and accompanied by their king title in seal script. They are all dressed in varying levels of armor in an overall red-orange-yellow color palette. Bull Demon King has one hand on his hip and the other hand holding half of a skull with two fingers up like a wine bowl. Jiao Demon King has one hand on his hip with the other on the hilt of his sword. Peng Demon King is standing, wings not folded but not outstretched, with his hands in mudra positions. Lion-Camel King is smiling with his eyes closed, one paw hooked onto his belt and the other resting within his off-the-shoulder outer shirt. Macaque King is standing with hook swords in each of his hands. Golden Snub-nosed King is leaning against a wolf's teeth staff. Sun Wukong is standing, arm slightly up and head tilted down, his staff held behind him. End ID]

[thistransient]

I have a heinous sunburn, my tailbone region is bruised and abraded, my stomach issues resolved after 800mg of anti-dysentery pills, I have a newfound and passionate appreciation for hot water and paved roads, and we finally made it back to the city today. This was probably one of the most unwise yet exhilarating things I've ever done in my life. Also I saw more yaks.

[ellraiser]

regional flora

[moonshynecybin]

andorra being like the motogp capital of polyamory is so funny? what even IS in andorra?

twinks sluts daddies tax evaders and lovely local scenery from what i can gather

[townpostin]

Dhalbhumgarh Airport Gets Green Light from State, Forest Land Use Recommended

99-Hectare Forest Diversion Proposed for Jamshedpur’s Air Connectivity Boost State endorses Dhalbhumgarh Airport project, recommending 99-hectare forest land diversion. Proposal awaits final nod from central environment ministry for Jamshedpur’s air connectivity boost. JAMSHEDPUR – The Jharkhand government has recommended diverting 99.256 hectares of forest land for the proposed Dhalbhumgarh…

[awkward-teabag]

I keep seeing people respond to the Microsoft Recall bullshit with there's an ability to disable it and that misses the point. Several points in fact.

It's only a matter of time until an update bugs/"bugs" it and re-enables it without warning so people who had previously disabled it think they're in the clear until their info is leaked or they get a warning they're low on storage space.

If people don't have admin rights, they may not be able to disable it. Laptops given by work or school lock down what people can do with them, some going as far as dictating which browser one has to use on them. Even if you don't need admin rights to disable Recall, you may not have the ability to do so without losing the laptop and/or job and/or education.

I'm unsure of how it would handle multiple accounts but if it can be locked by someone else to always be enabled, children and people in abusive situations would also be unable to disable it. Even if it can't be locked, disabling it could result in punishment from a parent or the abuser.

Is it really disabled or is it "disabled" in that what the user sees is it being disabled while it's still collecting information and/or sending information to Microsoft in the background?

Such a feature should never have been automatically enabled in the first place. It's bad, predatory design to have such a feature enabled from the start and to expect users AKA customers to go out of their way to look up and then opt-out of something.

If disabling it really disables it, it can still result in stress and concern that it's not. The vast majority of people do not have the skills or knowledge to look into the OS guts to give themselves peace of mind that it really truly is disabled.

I'm sure I'm missing some, too.

TLDR is disabling is a bandaid someone else may rip off for you, someone may hurt you if you use, it may not work at all except as a placebo, and should have never been needed in the first place.

[kyouka-supremacy]

[silkysong]

kringle and his adventures in The Fissure™

[sheericetorrent]

hypothesis and im delulu

so you see how otempes' balance amulet has that orb at the bottom of it

you know where we see this orb later on?

Him.

it might just be a reminder of the past war for otempes

but what if it was More. was he also a guardian of balance before? associated with otempes in any way? pr brain rot coming back has me going TURBO. thank u im returning to my lecture.!

[bromcommie]

Sokovia falls in spring.

Much of it is blurry now, forced into oblivion, but he remembers that part with vicious detail - the unassuming, forgettable prelude to hell; Lazarus Saturday, the intermittent tinkling of bells down their cul-de-sac and the heavy wet air while he sat out on the wide expanse of the balcony, sipping on his lukewarm coffee and sneaking a rare indulgent cigarette while the house was empty. It'd done little to ward against the chill of the morning, the kind of cold that broke him out into consistent goosebumps and seeped down into his bones, seemingly misplaced in early April. The metal railing stuck to the warm skin of his forearms when he leaned over it to peer idly down at the street, to where snow had accumulated in front of the row of brand-new luxury apartment buildings; all alike in their appearance, all that same shiny glass and metal and blinding white that had become popular in the last fifteen years, fifteen years too late in regards to the rest of the world, and that would fall apart in about as many. All laid out like a poor man's idea of opulence and a stark contrast to the unkempt street.

He'd hated it initially - hates it still, really. The cheap sterility of it, this sign of the times made palpable infrastructure that was devouring what was left of a once beautiful neighborhood, clashing with the old, dilapidated villas and steadfastly grey communist architecture. But Sandra had said, it's a peaceful neighborhood. There's a good school nearby. Sandra had said, There's a life for us here, love, and it'll be a good change of pace. Look how beautiful the view is from up here. Sandra had said: just because you grew up in exile doesn't mean Miho should.

And she was right. So a pristine-white, new-century-cold castle on the hill it was. He could still fit his dream of a future in Sokovia into a different shape, he told himself; what mattered was what was inside, anyway.

He'd watched as a gaggle of children slipped and skittered their way downhill from the international school, kicking the stray willow wreaths that had slipped off the heads of previous passersby back and forth until they'd get stuck in the muddy slush, and found himself wishing again that he'd gone with his wife and son to visit her mother in Kralyev Pole. But he was scheduled to go back to Vienna in the morning - it was a familiar rhythm by now - and Sandra had just pressed a firm kiss to his cheek and said we'll see you back home at Easter in a purposeful, loving tone that almost got lost between the distracted flurry of packing and her distant eyes.

Looking down at the murky palette of the street below he'd wished, not for the first time, that it'd all felt a little more like home. That he wasn't itching to be back on that plane out of the country the second he landed, a feeling amped up to 11 the second his family had set foot outside the building.

But then again, Novi Grad had never been his home; not really, not in any way that mattered.

He'd been in a foul mood already when his father called, the glaring absence of sound from the open double doors behind him and the grey sky pressing down over his head like a steel trap setting his teeth on edge. He'd let the phone ring and ring for almost a full minute before guilt had finally, inevitably, won over.

Their conversation had been relatively brief, caught between perfunctory and utilitarian, much like all of their other phone conversations since he'd started splitting his time between Sokovia and work abroad. They talked about the unexpected snow, about what is to be done for the anniversary of his mother's death, about whether Mihailo would like a BMX sports bicycle for his birthday. He'd tried explaining that his son still didn't really know how to ride one well - that at eight, the five-speed he already had was perfectly fine, thank you, but it's a nice thought. His father had just scoffed.

"You were never athletic as a child either, you know. Never climbed trees with the other children. Always too afraid of falling, I suppose," he'd said mostly to himself, and then, "If the kid actually had someone around to teach him, maybe he'd be learning faster."

On a different day, he might've let it slide. On a different day, he wouldn't have let the sentimental old age in his father's voice feel like a personal affront. "Nobody ever taught me, and I learned just fine."

This wasn't necessarily true. For most of his young life, Zemo had been coached by a wide plethora of professionals: French, German, Latin, shooting, violin, tennis, horseback riding, mountaineering, art, diplomacy, you name it - he'd had a teacher for every single one of the skills his parents and his surroundings had deemed necessary for a young man of his stature, and eventually, with more or less effort, he'd excelled at all of them; but never alone. There'd been Katya, the au pair that practically raised him in his childhood, young herself and lost in a foreign country and still the warmest presence he'd had in his life. There'd been Oeznik, who'd governed him with a much stricter hand than his own parents, but who had guarded Zemo's life with his own nonetheless.

It's just that things like big-game hunting and history lessons took precedence over things like bike riding and soccer, which was just as well, really. He never liked being mundane.

At the Academy it was a different story altogether. Unnoticeability, the skill of being no more interesting than the person next to him, only came later, and at a cost.

"Just make sure your Germans let you out in time for Easter," the old man'd muttered, "if they even recognize that sort of thing."

He remembers that part clearly, too, that bitter emphasis: your Germans. Like Zemo'd picked the wrong thing to do with his abundant time and money, the wrong way to employ his very specialized skill set, the wrong side of the family to lean into; like his name and heritage were something he'd picked himself and not something that was hammered into him by way of memorization, that he was taught to take pride in and embody down to the last detail. Like this mild-mannered, West-oriented young man who spoke German and a handful of other languages softly but deftly, who subsumed all his wilder impulses and hid his smoking and all his other dirty habits from his family and from the world behind a courteous smile wasn't an inadvertent yet nonetheless direct creation of the man on the other end of the line. A prince and a baron, turned a lowly gastarbeiter.

"They're Austrian," Zemo'd said simply. "Look, I have to go - Sandra and the kid just came in. I'll talk to you later."

It's not the last conversation he had with his father, but it's the last one he rememebers. Subtle judgement, the smell of smoke and cold and stale Turkish coffee and all those little clear bells, ringing, ringing, ringing: Lazarus rising, just to fall a week later.

Novi Grad falls on his son's birthday, the 11th of April, the day before Easter. It takes everything else down with it.

This was not the first time Novi Grad had fallen. Historically, this wasn't even the first time it’d suffered this extent of loss of life. But it was the first time the ruins were cauterized before something could grow from in between them like weeds out the sidewalk. It was the first time that what was lost was acknowledged as such: dead, gone, our condolences for your loss. Nothing more to be done.

There’d been excuses, of course, and platitudes spoken by the feeble remaining government, echoes of the UN and NATO and the EU he'd learned to recognize as empty long before he started working in security consulting:

We empathize greatly with all Sokovian nationals in this trying time. We’re doing everything in our power to stabilize the situation. We’re doing everything we can to never let a catastrophe like this happen again. It’ll just take a few weeks, a month, a year or two or five to rebuild, but patience is of the essence here.

We’re all very horrified, you understand. There aren’t enough resources for everyone, you see. It’s a very complicated situation, there’s no one answer here – now’s not the time to be pointing fingers. But we’re doing everything we can. We’re sure it’ll be enough.

Daće Bog. That’s what his mother used to say – like a vague handwave to ward off all the legitimate fear and anxiety before it can ever take root in her body, in her home. If she saw even a glimpse of it in her son’s face she’d take it as a clear sign that she had personally failed somehow, which would, exacerbated by alcohol and pent-up emotion, upset and anger her more than the original problem itself. Zemo'd learned how to bury and snuff out these embers of fear very quickly.

There's talk of persecution of royalist dissidents abroad - God will protect us from the infidels, you'll see. The regime changes and the country plunges into economic crisis - so what, it'll pass, God willing, and then we'll be able to return. Yet another war breaks out, nothing but a parasitic twin to the last, devouring the country from the inside out and draining off fresh blood – well, it's nothing new. it'll be alright, God willing we'll get the bastards before they get us. Crkli dabogda.

And he’d just nod his little head and allow, very neutral, very acquiescing for the tender age of nine, thirteen, sixteen - sure, of course, it'll all be fine. Much later, he'd adjust the poorly-fitted camouflage greens that would squeeze too tight around his neck and say in that same steady tone of voice into the payphone receiver, Don't worry, mama, don't worry, it'll be taken care of. Daće Bog.

That’s all she’d ever say on the topic, or any topic really. God save us, God willing, God will provide – that was her eternal refrain. Well that and, just you wait until your father gets home, if she'd perceived him to be acting up somehow - more often than not by virtue of sheer existence alone.

This was, of course, yet another half-truth - his father never really took to beating him. There were always bigger things to worry about, things that belonged to the grander picture - too wide for him to fit into as an important variable and just manageable enough to squeeze into his young body like a manifestation of a future his father was pouring all his hope and dreams into.

Either way, the fear was there. The fear of disappointing, of coming up short to the ideal of what a son should be; it was all it took to keep him in line. Father, God – they became two sides of the same coin, the same promise of impending judgement. Both instilled far more trepidation in him than comfort.

It’s only when the bulldozer finally digs up what remains of their old country estate and he can pull his father’s unrecognizable, mangled body into his lap – so small and frail, when did his father get to be so small and frail? – that he thinks: what was I so afraid of all those years?

*** Excerpt from my Zemo character study - turned out to be much longer than a snippet, but I got carried away. Still very much a WIP, but thought I might as well post it until I figure out where I want to go with it.

Translations: Daće bog - God will provide, God willing Crkli dabogda - may they all die, God willing gastarbeiter - (German) foreign or migrant worker