#cambridge surprise maximus

[asingularbee]

she cambridge on my surprise until i maximus

[political-fluffle]

The Reclusive Hedge-Fund Tycoon Behind the Trump Presidency (2017)

How Robert Mercer exploited America’s populist insurgency.

(...) During the past decade, Mercer, who is seventy, has funded an array of political projects that helped pave the way for Trump’s rise. Among these efforts was public-opinion research, conducted by Caddell, showing that political conditions in America were increasingly ripe for an outsider candidate to take the White House. Caddell told me that Mercer “is a libertarian—he despises the Republican establishment,” and added, “He thinks that the leaders are corrupt crooks, and that they’ve ruined the country.” (...)

Mercer is the co-C.E.O. of Renaissance Technologies, which is among the most profitable hedge funds in the country. A brilliant computer scientist, he helped transform the financial industry through the innovative use of trading algorithms. But he has never given an interview explaining his political views. Although Mercer has recently become an object of media speculation, Trevor Potter, the president of the Campaign Legal Center, a nonpartisan watchdog group, who formerly served as the chairman of the Federal Election Commission, said, “I have no idea what his political views are—they’re unknown, not just to the public but also to most people who’ve been active in politics for the past thirty years.” Potter, a Republican, sees Mercer as emblematic of a major shift in American politics that has occurred since 2010, when the Supreme Court made a controversial ruling in Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission. That ruling, and several subsequent ones, removed virtually all limits on how much money corporations and nonprofit groups can spend on federal elections, and how much individuals can give to political-action committees. Since then, power has tilted away from the two main political parties and toward a tiny group of rich mega-donors. (...)

Several people who have worked with Mercer believe that, despite his oddities, he has had surprising success in aligning the Republican Party, and consequently America, with his personal beliefs, and is now uniquely positioned to exert influence over the Trump Administration. In February, David Magerman, a senior employee at Renaissance, spoke out about what he regards as Mercer’s worrisome influence. Magerman, a Democrat who is a strong supporter of Jewish causes, took particular issue with Mercer’s empowerment of the alt-right, which has included anti-Semitic and white-supremacist voices. Magerman shared his concerns with Mercer, and the conversation escalated into an argument. Magerman told colleagues about it, and, according to an account in the Wall Street Journal, Mercer called Magerman and said, “I hear you’re going around saying I’m a white supremacist. That’s ridiculous.” Magerman insisted to Mercer that he hadn’t used those words, but added, “If what you’re doing is harming the country, then you have to stop.” After the Journal story appeared, Magerman, who has worked at Renaissance for twenty years, was suspended for thirty days. Undaunted, he published an op-ed in the Philadelphia Inquirer, accusing Mercer of “effectively buying shares in the candidate.” He warned, “Robert Mercer now owns a sizeable share of the United States Presidency.” (...)

On top of this nonprofit spending, Mercer invested in private businesses. He put ten million dollars into Breitbart News, which was conceived as a conservative counterweight to the Huffington Post. The Web site freely mixes right-wing political commentary with juvenile rants and racist innuendo; under Bannon’s direction, the editors introduced a rubric called Black Crime. The site played a key role in undermining Hillary Clinton; by tracking which negative stories about her got the most clicks and “likes,” the editors helped identify which story lines and phrases were the most potent weapons against her. Breitbart News has been a remarkable success: according to ComScore, a company that measures online traffic, the site attracted 19.2 million unique visitors in October.

Mercer also invested some five million dollars in Cambridge Analytica, a firm that mines online data to reach and influence potential voters. The company has said that it uses secret psychological methods to pinpoint which messages are the most persuasive to individual online viewers. The firm, which is the American affiliate of Strategic Communication Laboratories, in London, has worked for candidates whom Mercer has backed, including Trump. It also reportedly worked on the Brexit campaign, in the United Kingdom.

Alexander Nix, the C.E.O. of the firm, says that it has created “profiles”—consisting of several thousand data points—for two hundred and twenty million Americans. In promotional materials, S.C.L. has claimed to know how to use such data to wage both psychological and political warfare. “Persuading somebody to vote a certain way,” Nix has said publicly, “is really very similar to persuading 14- to 25-year-old boys in Indonesia to not join Al Qaeda.” Some critics suggest that, at this point, Cambridge Analytica’s self-promotion exceeds its effectiveness. But Jonathan Albright, an assistant professor of communications at Elon University, in North Carolina, recently published a paper, on Medium, calling Cambridge Analytica a “propaganda machine.”

As important as Mercer’s business investments is his hiring of advisers. Years before he started supporting Trump, he began funding several conservative activists, including Steve Bannon; as far back as 2012, Bannon was the Mercers’ de-facto political adviser. Some people who have observed the Mercers’ political evolution worry that Bannon has become a Svengali to the whole family, exploiting its political inexperience and tapping its fortune to further his own ambitions. It was Bannon who urged the Mercers to invest in a data-analytics firm. He also encouraged the investment in Breitbart News, which was made through Gravitas Maximus, L.L.C., a front group that once had the same Long Island address as Renaissance Technologies. In an interview, Bannon praised the Mercers’ strategic approach: “The Mercers laid the groundwork for the Trump revolution. Irrefutably, when you look at donors during the past four years, they have had the single biggest impact of anybody, including the Kochs.” (...)

Later that summer, Manafort was forced to resign, after the press reported his links to Ukrainian oligarchs. In the vacuum, the Mercers soon established control over the Trump campaign. Rebekah Mercer successfully pushed for a staff shakeup that led to the promotions of three people funded by the family: Bannon became the campaign’s C.E.O., Conway its manager, and Bossie its deputy manager. William Kristol, the editor of The Weekly Standard and an adamant Trump opponent, warned, “It’s the merger of the Trump campaign with the kooky right.” But an e-mail that Bannon sent to a friend in 2015, and that was later leaked to the Daily Beast, confirms that the elevation of the Mercers and their operatives was, in many ways, a formality. A year before Bannon joined Trump’s campaign staff, he described himself in the e-mail as Trump’s de-facto “campaign manager,” because of the positive coverage that Breitbart was giving Trump. That coverage had largely been underwritten by the Mercers. (...)

After the election, Rebekah Mercer was rewarded with a seat on Trump’s transition team. “She basically bought herself a seat,” Fischer said. She had strong feelings about who should be nominated to Cabinet positions and other top government jobs. Not all her ideas were embraced. She unsuccessfully pushed for John Bolton, the hawkish former Ambassador to the United Nations, to be named Secretary of State. So far, her suggestion that Arthur Robinson, the Oregon biochemist, be named the national science adviser has gone nowhere. Like her father, she advocates a return to the gold standard, but as of yet she has failed to get Trump to appoint officials who share this view.

Still, Mercer made her influence felt. Her pick for national-security adviser was Michael Flynn, and Trump chose him for the job. (Flynn lasted only a month, after he lied about having spoken with the Russian Ambassador before taking office.) More important, several people to whom Mercer is very close—including Bannon and Conway—have become some of the most powerful figures in the world. (...)

[torentialtribute]

Royal Ascot 2019 Day 2: Robin Goodfellow’s racing tips – Best bets for Wednesday, June 19

Ryan Moore delivered another dazzling Royal Ascot performance with an opening-day double and MAGICAL (Ascot, 3.40) could continue the Ballydoyle domination on Wednesday afternoon.

Arizona vintage and Circus Maximus saw Moore share the day-one riding honors with Danny Tudhope, but with a number of fancied mounts this afternoon, the former champion will be targeting another successful day.

In Magical, the English maestro appears to have a willing and reliable ally for a fascinating renewal of the Group One Princes Of Wales's Stakes which has the potential to be the race of the meeting. Arc De Triomphe runner-up Sea Of Class and the highly talented Crystal Ocean provide stiff opposition, but Magical is fancied to conjure up another stunning performance.

Jockey Ryan Moore can score again on Magical in the Group One Princes Of Wales's Stakes

ROYAL ASCOT

ROBIN GOODFELLOW

2.30 Final Song (nb)

3.05 Norway

3.40 Magical

4.20 I Can Fly

5.00 Raising Sand (nap)

5.35 Southern Hills

GIMCRACK

2.30 Flippa The Strippa

3.05 Nate The Great

3.40 Mag ical (n ap)

4.20 Pretty Baby (nb)

5.00 Chilean

5.35 Better The Devil

2.30 QUEEN MARY STAKES

Forecast rain could make fairly testing if it materializes and could play to the strengths of FINAL SONG given the manner of course and distance debut victory.

Displaying a professional attitude, the daughter of Dark Angel traveled powerfully before quickening to put six lengths between herself and toiling rivals in a matter of strides. Drawn alongside the two American speedballs (Anna's Fast and Kimari), Final Song should enjoy a good tow into the race and looks capable of delivering another big performance.

John Quinn sprang a 25-1 surprise in this race last year and Liberty Beach looks overpriced on the Beverley win, while the ground will be no issue for Partridge, who could outrun her tasty odds.

SELECTION: FINAL SONG

DANGER: LIBERTY BEACH

3.05 QUEEN'S VASE

With four victories in the past six runnings, trainer Aidan O'Brien has been the go-to man for this race and Western Australia and NORWAY appear to give him another excellent chance of success.

The former appreciated the step up in trip to score well at Navan last time but his stablemate is narrowly preferred as he was far from disgraced in the Derby when aggressively ridden and looks the type to improve again for a stiffer test or stamina.

Norway previously had no answer to the turn or foot displayed by Sir Dragonet at Chester but he didn't enjoy the smoothest of passages and looks capable of confirming placings with Dashing Willoughby, who also emerged with plenty of credit that day.

SELECTION: NORWAY

DANGER: DASHING WILLOUGhBY

3.40 PRINCE OF WALES'S STAKES

The presence of star fillies MAGICAL and Sea Of Class combined with classy male counterparts Crystal Ocean and Waldgeist could ensure this is a race for the ages.

Figures followers will note that Magical has recorded two of the best three career runs this season, an achievement that appears to find her trainer's view that she is in the form of her life this term. Admittedly, she has beaten the same horse in Flag Of Honor three times – on the last two occasions at very short prices – but the victories have been recorded emphatically and Latrobe, twice beaten by the selection this spring, ran a fine race in defeat yesterday in the Wolferton Stakes.

Trainer William Haggas will be buoyed by landing the aforementioned day one final with Addeybb, his first Royal win for some years, and Sea Of Class is reported to have been trained for the minute on her

On a line through the majestic Enable, there isn't a great deal to separate the two fillies, but Magical copes well with soft ground, is tactically versatile and stays 12 furlongs well so may just enjoy an edge over a horse that has not been seen since finishing an unlucky second in last year's Arc.

SELECTION: MAGICAL

DANGER: SEA OF CLASS

[1 9459018] 4.20 DUKE OF CAMBRIDGE STAKES

Any further softening in conditions will play to the strengths of I CAN FLY who posted a career last here autumn when chasing home Roaring Lion in the Queen Elizabeth II Stakes under similar conditions.

Admittedly, she was a little below par at the Curragh last time but she was slowly away that day and found a track bias, which suited the front-running winner Beshaayir, all against her.

She was similarly slowly away in the Lockinge at Newbury yet emerged with a great deal of credit to take sixth and the performance of Lord Glitter suggests it is a piece of form worth noting. Rawdaa has caught the eye with tidy performances this term and rates a chief danger along with last year's Sandringham winner Agrotera.

SELECTION: I CAN FLY

DANGER : AGROTERA

5.00 ROYAL HUNT CUP

The Victoria Cup may prove a pivotal piece of form in deciphering this complex puzzle and Kynren and RAISING SAND could prove the duo to concentrate on.

The former ran yet another blinder at the Berkshire venue to chase home winner Cape Byron that day and the step up to a mile should see him on the scene again. However, that also applies to Raising Sand and he is marginally preferred.

Jamie Osborne's grand handicapper has run in a multitude of Ascot handicaps and he really caught the eye when a little isolated on the stands side rail in the Victoria Cup. The way in which Raising Sand charged home suggested he too would relish a stamina and any rain would improve his chance still further.

SELECTION: RAISING SAND (nap)

DANGER: KYNREN

5.35 WINDSOR CASTLE STAKES

It remains something of a mystery how SOUTHERN HILLS managed to get saved at Navan , but he could gain compensation given a more patient ride.

The imposing son of Gleneagles moved powerfully throughout that small-field contest and shot readily clear of his main market rival and odds-on favorite, Air Force Jet, looking sure to register a first career win.

It was wither a lack of concentration or greenness, but Southern Hills looked to pull himself up a little when hitting the front and allowed his rival to overhaul him late on. Hopefully, the selection will have been learned from that experience and Ryan Moore, in such an irresistible form on day one, can harness his undoubted ability and speed for a race-winning challenge.

SELECTION: SOUTHERN HILLS

DANGER: TEMPLE OF HEAVEN

HOLLIE DOYLE: FINAL SONG IS A BORN WINNER

SEA OF CLASS was a brilliant filly last season, winning two Group One races and only narrowly being beaten by Enable in the Arc.

There is a chance the filly trained by William Haggas could be better this season and she should be very tough to beat in a Prince of Wales's Stakes which is one of the races of the week with Crystal Ocean and Magical in opposition.

The Haggas team is in good form and had a winner with Addeybb on the opening day yesterday.

In the Queen Mary Stakes I like Saeed Bin Suroor's FINAL SONG. She is a course and distance winner which is a big plus for a two year old on this big stage.

NORWAY was eighth in the Derby and the extra two furlongs he faces in the Queen's Vase should be to his advantage

He is consistent and his career is going in the right direction. I ride Nate The Great in the race. He was only three lengths behind subsequent Derby winner Anthony Van Dyck when he was third in the Lingfield Derby Trial. We are hoping for a big run and he has a good each-way shout. ANNA NERIUM is tough and consistent and will love the dig in the ground she will encounter in the Duke Of Cambridge Stakes after all yesterday's rain.

Hollie Doyle is a Sky Sports Racing ambassador. Watch all the action from Royal Ascot live on Sky Sports Racing.

Source link

[surreybells]

SURREY BATTLE IT OUT, NORTH OF THE THAMES

A consensus amongst Home Counties ringers is that the most convivial annual twelve bell striking competition is the London based event. This is open to all bands that regularly ring at a 12 bell tower within the M25 motorway and was initiated by Jason Hughes, a stalwart of the Surrey Association.  While some thought the competition might only last for a few years, it has gone from strength to strength becoming an established part of the London ringing calendar.

The 10th Annual Competition took place at St Michael, Cornhill, in the City of London on Saturday 27 October 2018 with a handsome trophy presented by Alan Hughes of the Whitechapel Bell Foundry.

Nine teams took part including a representative Surrey band drawn from the regular 12 bell practices held at Croydon and other local towers. These practices are coordinated by both Shirley McGill and Caroline Prescott, with Michael Uphill as chief in charge of the competition team.  A team from Southwark Cathedral drawn from their regular Sunday Service band also entered.  The competition is tough as Surrey is always pitted against some of the premier bands in the country, including the College Youths, Cumberlands and St Paul’s Cathedral. The competition tower this year also holds a relatively new 32 cwt ring of superb Taylor Foundry bells cast in 2011 and the chief judge David Brown remarked in his summary of the test ringing that any in consistency, however slight, was easily detected by the judges. This together with the test piece, of six leads of Cambridge Surprise Maximus, meant the Surrey bands had to ring extremely well if they were to challenge the other teams.

The practices for the representative Surrey team went well and spirits were high on the day (at least when allowed to have an alcoholic drink after ringing!) but being drawn last and allowing the nerves to kick in meant we did not perform as well as in our practices. That said, in percentage terms the Surrey team were much closer to the pack than in either of our two previous Maximus competition performances, and we did not finish at the foot of the results table. For the record the final results are in the table below.

The aim is to continue with the Surrey 12 Bell practices to build on the progress achieved in recent years and come back stronger at next year’s competition. These practices are open to all ringers who aspire to improve their 12 bell ringing, with an emphasis on regular practices aimed at different levels of experience. Any new blood interested should first speak to either Caroline Prescott or Shirley McGill to find out which practices they might best aim for at the outset.

Representative Surrey band: Left to Right: (Back Row) David Wallis, Jason Hughes, Anthony Matthews, Noel Gibbin, Phillip Ridley, Ian Wiltshire, Anne Anthony; (Front Row) Michel Uphill, David Perkins, Jenny Heyworth, Caroline Prescott (holding the Whitechapel Trophy in anticipation of next year’s result), Sheila Cheesman, Shirley McGill and Chris Ridley

Finally thanks to all those who took part in the run up to this year’s event, particularly to Anne Anthony (jet lagged after returning from North America) and Ian Wiltshire (restricted to socialising in the Jamaica Inn for most of the day!) for acting as reserves for Surrey throughout the day. Also congratulations to Shirley McGill who rang in the winning Cumberland Team.

Chris Ridley

[bluearlette-blog]

WRITING PROMPT #1 --- the only way to run is forward.

trigger warnings: food, anxiety.

TIME: 3:17pm STARTING LOCATION: Glutinous Maximus, Cambridge, Massachusetts

        Grabbing a wooden spoon, Arlette rolled her eyes while she deadpanned, “You can’t just dump in all the sugar into the egg whites at once and expect the meringue to not deflate… and I’m being pretty compassionate by calling it meringue.”

       Scooped up some of the mixture, letting the runny mishmash drip off the wood until it was just coated with a translucent sheen. You fucking idiot, she wanted to say. But instead of crossing the line with her temporary tyranny, she let her unimpressed gaze do all the talking while Shane, her boss’s latest hire and the trainee she never wished she had, looked too hesitant to even roll his shoulders.

       Elbows came off the counter Arlette was leaning on at the cue of pattering footsteps from the room over. Without ever facing Shane as she headed out the entrance, she coolly commanded, “This time, one tablespoon at a time.” Adopting a ghost of a grin, she pushed past the kitchen’s doors and then took the customer’s order.

       “Hi. One cherry Danish, and two lemon glazed donuts please,” the woman began as she ruffled through her purse.

       Arlette pulled out three cellophane bags from below the counter and a small, custom-logoed box, and then left the box on the counter as she retrieved the pastries. After the donuts were sealed away, she headed towards the Danishes but noticed that the display looked sparser than usual. Three were missing, she quickly turned around and scanned the room to make sure everything else was in place. Just the Danishes --- she has a very conscious memory of stocking the Danishes. Didn’t she? But she didn’t have time to dwell on it, and without entertaining another moment of hesitation, she packed one of the cherry Danishes and neatly placed it in the box on the counter. “We use chip,” she noted as she glanced down at the Visa in the woman’s hand. The woman inserted her card into the card reader and Arlette gazed out the large window of their storefront as the inevitable ten seconds of pin processing and cashback denying ensued.

       A few moments into her window-gazing, Arlette’s focus narrowed like a hawk, a reaction spurred on my shock, and by sudden curiosity a she saw a flash of deep blue lightning striking the ground, irreconcilable with the hue of the cloudless sky and starkly contrasted against the green of the trees that it appeared against, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. The leaves of the trees it stemmed from rustled almost violently, and Arlette’s heart consequently pounded, nearly blinded by the surprise lightshow.

       It was too low to the ground --- nearly three feet. So in short, that sure as shit wasn’t lightning, but it was the best word for whatever she saw. She tiptoed to get a better look on the ground to see if the electrical attack left a mark and saw something that made her blood boil: the unmistakable and mysteriously disappeared cherry Danish, the cherry filling glinting against the twig-intensive ground like a jewel.

       Her fake-lightning-motivated confusion and Danish-driven focus was overrode by the electronic whirring of the printing receipt, which she promptly ripped out and handed to the woman. She hastily handed it to the woman, urging the patron with all her mental might to scurry out of the shop. When they exchanged polite niceties and the woman left, Arlette burst into the kitchen, the doors flinging back with something akin to a bang. She honestly didn’t mean to be so loud, but in the moment she found little in her to feel remorse in light of her new expedition.

       “You didn’t touch the Danishes, did you?”

       Shane staggered backward at her loud introduction, and stuttered, “N-no! I didn’t touch the Danishes. You’re… the one that stocked them.” He treaded the last statement with clear caution, not wanting to offend her if she misconstrued his stated fact with an accusation.

       Arlette rolled her eyes. “Yes, I remember. Just asking a question, Shane. But I’m going to have you keep an eye on the shop, ‘kay?” And with that, she zoomed out of the kitchen doors, tossing her apron at a nearby counter and burst out of the shop, leaving Shane’s sputtering protests to fade in the wind that she rushed out. Surely he can’t be that much worse at keeping the shop alive for an hour as he is at making a Swiss meringue.

       Readjusting her eyes to the sudden brightness of the sun above, she threw a hand up to shield her eyes and re-targeted her gaze to the location of the stranded Danish. Without a window as a tinted filter, somehow seeing the pastry now than before made the bizarre nature of her situation seem more… real. Less screened. She strolled rather casually towards the pastry and cautiously bent over, eyes darting around as she picked the Danish up.

       It was toasted, which was clear from the now burnt perimeter. And the filling melted, which was clear when she turned the Danish vertically and the bright red stuffing ran straight to the ground.

       There were three missing Danishes, weren’t there? Arlette’s eyes steadily scanned the area before spotting the two Danishes spaced out deeper into the forest. Her wariness increased. There were too many trees, too many bushes, and this is how people die. Torn between satiating her curiosity and maintaining her life, she seemed to make a decision when she dropped the Danish that she planned to forget and took a step back.

       But as she stepped back and planned to return to her 15-an-hour post, she heard a rustle in the trees some yards deep into the woods and that only intensified her flight response, but not before she saw something in the distance that made her stagger back --- but this time, she lost her poise and nearly fell backward before something heaved her upwards. Upwards.

       She yelped, and looked down, nearly blinded by the electric blue hue wrapped around her abdomen, acutely aware of the fact that her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. Her hands instinctively wrapped around the giant sling around her chest before she realized that it wasn’t a sling. It felt leathery… alive. Arlette slowly turned to gaze over her shoulder, but she could only get a good look at the tip of the goddamn electric blue elephant’s trunk before she was rushed forwards about a hundred yards, trees zooming past her with a blur.

       All Arlette could be sure of at the moment was the pounding in her chest and the sharp pain on her palms and knees as she was unceremoniously tossed to the ground, and she was left to scamper up and brush off the dirt from her shorts and tank top. To be fair, she was just unprepared for the fall, but she couldn’t exactly think about bending her knees for a graceful landing when she was being flung from an elephant’s trunk.

       And true to its consistently undignified nature, the electric blue hue confrontationally appeared inches from her face when Arlette finally regained her posture, but took on another shape --- this time, a formless, sort of spherical orb of light that just… floated. It seemed to have a life of its own, and despite what the safer option would be, Arlette reached out to gain any semblance of real sensory belief that this floating globe of light wasn’t just smokes and mirrors. As her digits neared the spherule, she felt warmth. But not just at the tip of her fingertips, but evenly distributed throughout her body, like there was warm gold running through her veins. It was heavenly.

       But before she could actually reach the perimeter of strands of electric blue light, the wisp whizzed away farther into the woods and then paused, bouncing almost emotionally energetically as if beckoning her on. With the loss of proximity to the light, the euphoria consequently disappeared.

       Arlette’s blood boiled in the midst of the chaos of internal uncertainty before she finally discarded her reservations. Fuck it. Seeing was believing, wasn’t it? Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stop if she finished her shift. She stepped towards the light, but after her first step crunched down on the forest ground, the light zoomed on and the chase was on, Arlette refusing to let to lose sight of the orb.

       She wasn’t sure where the end point was and how she hasn’t already tripped over the roots of the trees, but she ran, and didn’t plan on stopping until there was a better reason than exhaustion. In the back of her mind, she knew there were fifty ways this could go wrong, but this sort of… power or whatever the hell it was clearly possessed enough determination and capacity to get her wherever she chose to ran. So really, there was no point in running away, so the only productive option would be to run forward.

       Sneakers skidded to a stop when suddenly, Arlette couldn’t see the light anymore. She whipped her head around, looking for the beacon of light before realizing that she was in the deep thicket of the woods, an area that’s had several police reports of body dumping and disappearing woods-wanderers. Biting her lip in a moment of uncharacteristic anxiety and terror, she folded her hands above her now extremely sweaty head and got ready to pull out the karate moves that she certainly did not possess, her eyes unaccustomed to the dark that resulted from the treetops blanketing the forest floor.

       But the feeling of euphoria unexplainably returned, relaxing her anxiety and offering a slight boost of confidence. Arlette turned around and realized that the wisp had gently grazed against the back of her neck. Before she could register its presence, it waved a tendril of light, as if waving goodbye, and disappeared again.

       Despite the light’s disappearance, however, the darkness didn’t return to its full intimidation. Instead of the blinding glow of the illumination, Arlette’s eyes were directed to the light source at her feet, a calmer bright blue glimmer from what looked like a crystal. And it didn’t seem to be subject to moving around so swiftly anytime soon. So, after looking around a bit, she lent down and quickly scoped up the crystal, but barely had time to register the feeling of it in her hand before she heard thunder. Loud thunder. Thunder that could only be ---

       --- Arlette looked up, and saw the leaves of the pine tree above shake violently.

       “Sh ---”

       And the last thing she registered before plunging into darkness was the blinding presence of eye-searing blue lightning.