#it's all refugee work and reconstruction

[fairuzfan]

"We have come together as Palestinian academics and staff of Gaza universities to affirm our existence, the existence of our colleagues and our students, and the insistence on our future, in the face of all current attempts to erase us.

The Israeli occupation forces have demolished our buildings but our universities live on. We reaffirm our collective determination to remain on our land and to resume teaching, study, and research in Gaza, at our own Palestinian universities, at the earliest opportunity.

We call upon our friends and colleagues around the world to resist the ongoing campaign of scholasticide in occupied Palestine, to work alongside us in rebuilding our demolished universities, and to refuse all plans seeking to bypass, erase, or weaken the integrity of our academic institutions. The future of our young people in Gaza depends upon us, and our ability to remain on our land in order to continue to serve the coming generations of our people.

We issue this call from beneath the bombs of the occupation forces across occupied Gaza, in the refugee camps of Rafah, and from the sites of temporary new exile in Egypt and other host countries. We are disseminating it as the Israeli occupation continues to wage its genocidal campaign against our people daily, in its attempt to eliminate every aspect of our collective and individual life.

Our families, colleagues, and students are being assassinated, while we have once again been rendered homeless, reliving the experiences of our parents and grandparents during the massacres and mass expulsions by Zionist armed forces in 1947 and 1948.

Our civic infrastructure – universities, schools, hospitals, libraries, museums and cultural centres – built by generations of our people, lies in ruins from this deliberate continuous Nakba. The deliberate targeting of our educational infrastructure is a blatant attempt to render Gaza uninhabitable and erode the intellectual and cultural fabric of our society. However, we refuse to allow such acts to extinguish the flame of knowledge and resilience that burns within us.

Allies of the Israeli occupation in the United States and United Kingdom are opening yet another scholasticide front through promoting alleged reconstruction schemes that seek to eliminate the possibility of independent Palestinian educational life in Gaza. We reject all such schemes and urge our colleagues to refuse any complicity in them. We also urge all universities and colleagues worldwide to coordinate any academic aid efforts directly with our universities.

We extend our heartfelt appreciation to the national and international institutions that have stood in solidarity with us, providing support and assistance during these challenging times. However, we stress the importance of coordinating these efforts to effectively reopen Palestinian universities in Gaza.

We emphasise the urgent need to reoperate Gaza’s education institutions, not merely to support current students, but to ensure the long-term resilience and sustainability of our higher education system. Education is not just a means of imparting knowledge; it is a vital pillar of our existence and a beacon of hope for the Palestinian people.

Accordingly, it is essential to formulate a long-term strategy for rehabilitating the infrastructure and rebuilding the entire facilities of the universities. However, such endeavours require considerable time and substantial funding, posing a risk to the ability of academic institutions to sustain operations, potentially leading to the loss of staff, students, and the capacity to reoperate.

Given the current circumstances, it is imperative to swiftly transition to online teaching to mitigate the disruption caused by the destruction of physical infrastructure. This transition necessitates comprehensive support to cover operational costs, including the salaries of academic staff.

Student fees, the main source of income for universities, have collapsed since the start of the genocide. The lack of income has left staff without salaries, pushing many of them to search for external opportunities.

Beyond striking at the livelihoods of university faculty and staff, this financial strain caused by the deliberate campaign of scholasticide poses an existential threat to the future of the universities themselves.

Thus, urgent measures must be taken to address the financial crisis now faced by academic institutions, to ensure their very survival. We call upon all concerned parties to immediately coordinate their efforts in support of this critical objective.

The rebuilding of Gaza’s academic institutions is not just a matter of education; it is a testament to our resilience, determination, and unwavering commitment to securing a future for generations to come.

The fate of higher education in Gaza belongs to the universities in Gaza, their faculty, staff, and students and to the Palestinian people as a whole. We appreciate the efforts of peoples and citizens around the world to bring an end to this ongoing genocide.

We call upon our colleagues in the homeland and internationally to support our steadfast attempts to defend and preserve our universities for the sake of the future of our people, and our ability to remain on our Palestinian land in Gaza. We built these universities from tents. And from tents, with the support of our friends, we will rebuild them once again."

[zvaigzdelasas]

Officials from the UK Foreign Office and the business department held an online meeting with British business leaders in November to encourage companies to take advantage of the “great opportunity” to support Azerbaijan president Ilham Aliyev’s rebuilding agenda.[...]

In the days after Baku’s military operations the UK government publicly condemned the Aliyev regime’s “unacceptable use of force” in Nagorno-Karabakh and warned that it had “put at risk efforts to find a lasting peaceful settlement” in the region.

But a recording of the online meeting, shared with the Guardian by campaigners at Global Witness, includes one senior UK government official encouraging business leaders to take advantage of the financial opportunities in the “huge western chunk of the country that needs to be rebuilt from the ground up”.

“The Azerbaijan government is supporting what it calls ‘the great return’, which is essentially providing the opportunity for the 700,000 [internally displaced people], these refugees, to basically return to Karabakh. So you have this great opportunity here actually,” the official said.

It is not clear whether the official was referring to Nagorno-Karabakh specifically, part of the far larger Karabakh region. Aliyev set out plans in 2020 to rebuild the “liberated districts” of the Karabakh region in western Azerbaijan, which includes Nagorno-Karabakh. The president said it was important that all displaced Azerbaijan citizens return to Nagorno-Karabakh and adjacent districts where they used to live.

A second government official told business leaders: “[There’s] a great opportunity here actually. [It was] just an empty land that was ready to be built over from scratch.”

Jonathan Noronha-Gant, a senior campaigner at Global Witness, said: “Behind closed doors, the UK government is calling Azerbaijan’s ethnic cleansing of Nagorno-Karabakh a ‘great opportunity’. What century are these officials living in? It’s not a great opportunity for the UK, nor for the people who were displaced.”

In the recording the first official said UK companies were “well-placed” to collaborate with the Azerbaijan government to provide infrastructure advice to “a government which has financial means given that it has very large energy resources”. Azerbaijan owns one of the world’s largest gasfields, Shah Deniz in the Caspian Sea, and is a growing exporter of gas to Europe.[...]

A UK government spokesperson said: “These comments from UK officials have been misrepresented. Discussions of reconstruction referred to the UK government’s public work to assist with possible future development in the new towns being built for those displaced by decades of conflict.

“The UK is not involved in commercial activity or reconstruction efforts in the area of Nagorno-Karabakh region recovered by Azerbaijan through its September 2023 military operation.[...]

The Guardian revealed last year that Azerbaijan’s share of two large oil and gas projects operated by British oil company BP had earned its government almost $35bn (£28.6bn), or more than four times its military spending since 2020 when war broke out in the disputed territory of Nagorno-Karabakh.[...]

BP also plans to build a 240MW solar farm in Azerbaijan’s “liberated lands”, according to Azerbaijan’s deputy energy minister. The Azerbaijani prime minister, Ali Asadov, met with the BP head of production, Gordon Birrell, recently to discuss the Sunrise solar project, which is planned for an area near the ghost city of Jabrayil, which was left in ruin after the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war.

22 Feb 24

[max-levchin]

Shamir Secret Sharing

It’s 3am. Paul, the head of PayPal database administration carefully enters his elaborate passphrase at a keyboard in a darkened cubicle of 1840 Embarcadero Road in East Palo Alto, for the fifth time. He hits Return. The green-on-black console window instantly displays one line of text: “Sorry, one or more wrong passphrases. Can’t reconstruct the key. Goodbye.” 

There is nerd pandemonium all around us. James, our recently promoted VP of Engineering, just climbed the desk at a nearby cubicle, screaming: “Guys, if we can’t get this key the right way, we gotta start brute-forcing it ASAP!” It’s gallows humor – he knows very well that brute-forcing such a key will take millions of years, and it’s already 6am on the East Coast – the first of many “Why is PayPal down today?” articles is undoubtedly going to hit CNET shortly. Our single-story cubicle-maze office is buzzing with nervous activity of PayPalians who know they can’t help but want to do something anyway. I poke my head up above the cubicle wall to catch a glimpse of someone trying to stay inside a giant otherwise empty recycling bin on wheels while a couple of Senior Software Engineers are attempting to accelerate the bin up to dangerous speeds in the front lobby. I lower my head and try to stay focused. “Let’s try it again, this time with three different people” is the best idea I can come up with, even though I am quite sure it will not work. 

It doesn’t. 

The key in question decrypts PayPal’s master payment credential table – also known as the giant store of credit card and bank account numbers. Without access to payment credentials, PayPal doesn’t really have a business per se, seeing how we are supposed to facilitate payments, and that’s really hard to do if we no longer have access to the 100+ million credit card numbers our users added over the last year of insane growth. 

This is the story of a catastrophic software bug I briefly introduced into the PayPal codebase that almost cost us the company (or so it seemed, in the moment.) I’ve told this story a handful of times, always swearing the listeners to secrecy, and surprisingly it does not appear to have ever been written down before. 20+ years since the incident, it now appears instructive and a little funny, rather than merely extremely embarrassing. 

Before we get back to that fateful night, we have to go back another decade. In the summer of 1991, my family and I moved to Chicago from Kyiv, Ukraine. While we had just a few hundred dollars between the five of us, we did have one secret advantage: science fiction fans. 

My dad was a highly active member of Zoryaniy Shlyah – Kyiv’s possibly first (and possibly only, at the time) sci-fi fan club – the name means “Star Trek” in Ukrainian, unsurprisingly. He translated some Stansilaw Lem (of Solaris and Futurological Congress fame) from Polish to Russian in the early 80s and was generally considered a coryphaeus at ZSh. 

While USSR was more or less informationally isolated behind the digital Iron Curtain until the late ‘80s, by 1990 or so, things like FidoNet wriggled their way into the Soviet computing world, and some members of ZSh were now exchanging electronic mail with sci-fi fans of the free world.

The vaguely exotic news of two Soviet refugee sci-fi fans arriving in Chicago was transmitted to the local fandom before we had even boarded the PanAm flight that took us across the Atlantic [1]. My dad (and I, by extension) was soon adopted by some kind Chicago science fiction geeks, a few of whom became close friends over the years, though that’s a story for another time. 

A year or so after the move to Chicago, our new sci-fi friends invited my dad to a birthday party for a rising star of the local fandom, one Bruce Schneier. We certainly did not know Bruce or really anyone at the party, but it promised good food, friendly people, and probably filk. My role was to translate, as my dad spoke limited English at the time. 

I had fallen desperately in love with secret codes and cryptography about a year before we left Ukraine. Walking into Bruce’s library during the house tour (this was a couple years before Applied Cryptography was published and he must have been deep in research) felt like walking into Narnia. 

I promptly abandoned my dad to fend for himself as far as small talk and canapés were concerned, and proceeded to make a complete ass out of myself by brazenly asking the host for a few sheets of paper and a pencil. Having been obliged, I pulled a half dozen cryptography books from the shelves and went to work trying to copy down some answers to a few long-held questions on the library floor. After about two hours of scribbling alone like a man possessed, I ran out of paper and decided to temporarily rejoin the party. 

On the living room table, Bruce had stacks of copies of his fanzine Ramblings. Thinking I could use the blank sides of the pages to take more notes, I grabbed a printout and was about to quietly return to copying the original S-box values for DES when my dad spotted me from across the room and demanded I help him socialize. The party wrapped soon, and our friends drove us home. 

The printout I grabbed was not a Ramblings issue. It was a short essay by Bruce titled Sharing Secrets Among Friends, essentially a humorous explanation of Shamir Secret Sharing. 

Say you want to make sure that something really really important and secret (a nuclear weapon launch code, a database encryption key, etc) cannot be known or used by a single (friendly) actor, but becomes available, if at least n people from a group of m choose to do it. Think two on-duty officers (from a cadre of say 5) turning keys together to get ready for a nuke launch. 

The idea (proposed by Adi Shamir – the S of RSA! – in 1979) is as simple as it is beautiful. 

Let’s call the secret we are trying to split among m people K. 

First, create a totally random polynomial that looks like: y(x) = C0 * x^(n-1) + C1 * x^(n-2) + C2 * x^(n-3) ….+ K. “Create” here just means generate random coefficients C. Now, for every person in your trusted group of m, evaluate the polynomial for some randomly chosen Xm and hand them their corresponding (Xm,Ym) each. 

If we have n of these points together, we can use Lagrange interpolating polynomial to reconstruct the coefficients – and evaluate the original polynomial at x=0, which conveniently gives us y(0) = K, the secret. Beautiful. I still had the printout with me, years later, in Palo Alto. 

It should come as no surprise that during my time as CTO PayPal engineering had an absolute obsession with security. No firewall was one too many, no multi-factor authentication scheme too onerous, etc. Anything that was worth anything at all was encrypted at rest. 

To decrypt, a service would get the needed data from its database table, transmit it to a special service named cryptoserv (an original SUN hardware running Solaris sitting on its own, especially tightly locked-down network) and a special service running only there would perform the decryption and send back the result. 

Decryption request rate was monitored externally and on cryptoserv, and if there were too many requests, the whole thing was to shut down and purge any sensitive data and keys from its memory until manually restarted. 

It was this manual restart that gnawed at me. At launch, a bunch of configuration files containing various critical decryption keys were read (decrypted by another key derived from one manually-entered passphrase) and loaded into the memory to perform future cryptographic services.

Four or five of us on the engineering team knew the passphrase and could restart cryptoserv if it crashed or simply had to have an upgrade. What if someone performed a little old-fashioned rubber-hose cryptanalysis and literally beat the passphrase out of one of us? The attacker could theoretically get access to these all-important master keys. Then stealing the encrypted-at-rest database of all our users’ secrets could prove useful – they could decrypt them in the comfort of their underground supervillain lair. 

I needed to eliminate this threat.

Shamir Secret Sharing was the obvious choice – beautiful, simple, perfect (you can in fact prove that if done right, it offers perfect secrecy.) I decided on a 3-of-8 scheme and implemented it in pure POSIX C for portability over a few days, and tested it for several weeks on my Linux desktop with other engineers. 

Step 1: generate the polynomial coefficients for 8 shard-holders.

Step 2: compute the key shards (x0, y0)  through (x7, y7)

Step 3: get each shard-holder to enter a long, secure passphrase to encrypt the shard

Step 4: write out the 8 shard files, encrypted with their respective passphrases.

And to reconstruct: 

Step 1: pick any 3 shard files. 

Step 2: ask each of the respective owners to enter their passphrases. 

Step 3: decrypt the shard files.

Step 4: reconstruct the polynomial, evaluate it for x=0 to get the key.

Step 5: launch cryptoserv with the key. 

One design detail here is that each shard file also stored a message authentication code (a keyed hash) of its passphrase to make sure we could identify when someone mistyped their passphrase. These tests ran hundreds and hundreds of times, on both Linux and Solaris, to make sure I did not screw up some big/little-endianness issue, etc. It all worked perfectly. 

A month or so later, the night of the key splitting party was upon us. We were finally going to close out the last vulnerability and be secure. Feeling as if I was about to turn my fellow shard-holders into cymeks, I gathered them around my desktop as PayPal’s front page began sporting the “We are down for maintenance and will be back soon” message around midnight.

The night before, I solemnly generated the new master key and securely copied it to cryptoserv. Now, while “Push It” by Salt-n-Pepa blared from someone’s desktop speakers, the automated deployment script copied shard files to their destination. 

While each of us took turns carefully entering our elaborate passphrases at a specially selected keyboard, Paul shut down the main database and decrypted the payment credentials table, then ran the script to re-encrypt with the new key. Some minutes later, the database was running smoothly again, with the newly encrypted table, without incident. 

All that was left was to restore the master key from its shards and launch the new, even more secure cryptographic service. 

The three of us entered our passphrases… to be met with the error message I haven’t seen in weeks: “Sorry, one or more wrong passphrases. Can’t reconstruct the key. Goodbye.” Surely one of us screwed up typing, no big deal, we’ll do it again. No dice. No dice – again and again, even after we tried numerous combinations of the three people necessary to decrypt. 

Minutes passed, confusion grew, tension rose rapidly. 

There was nothing to do, except to hit rewind – to grab the master key from the file still sitting on cryptoserv, split it again, generate new shards, choose passphrases, and get it done. Not a great feeling to have your first launch go wrong, but not a huge deal either. It will all be OK in a minute or two.

A cursory look at the master key file date told me that no, it wouldn’t be OK at all. The file sitting on cryptoserv wasn’t from last night, it was created just a few minutes ago. During the Salt-n-Pepa-themed push from stage, we overwrote the master key file with the stage version. Whatever key that was, it wasn’t the one I generated the day before: only one copy existed, the one I copied to cryptoserv from my computer the night before. Zero copies existed now. Not only that, the push script appears to have also wiped out the backup of the old key, so the database backups we have encrypted with the old key are likely useless. 

Sitrep: we have 8 shard files that we apparently cannot use to restore the master key and zero master key backups. The database is running but its secret data cannot be accessed. 

I will leave it to your imagination to conjure up what was going through my head that night as I stared into the black screen willing the shards to work. After half a decade of trying to make something of myself (instead of just going to work for Microsoft or IBM after graduation) I had just destroyed my first successful startup in the most spectacular fashion. 

Still, the idea of “what if we all just continuously screwed up our passphrases” swirled around my brain. It was an easy check to perform, thanks to the included MACs. I added a single printf() debug statement into the shard reconstruction code and instead of printing out a summary error of “one or more…” the code now showed if the passphrase entered matched the authentication code stored in the shard file. 

I compiled the new code directly on cryptoserv in direct contravention of all reasonable security practices – what did I have to lose? Entering my own passphrase, I promptly got “bad passphrase” error I just added to the code. Well, that’s just great – I knew my passphrase was correct, I had it written down on a post-it note I had planned to rip up hours ago. 

Another person, same error. Finally, the last person, JK, entered his passphrase. No error. The key still did not reconstruct correctly, I got the “Goodbye”, but something worked. I turned to the engineer and said, “what did you just type in that worked?”

After a second of embarrassed mumbling, he admitted to choosing “a$$word” as his passphrase. The gall! I asked everyone entrusted with the grave task of relaunching crytposerv to pick really hard to guess passphrases, and this guy…?! Still, this was something -- it worked. But why?!

I sprinted around the half-lit office grabbing the rest of the shard-holders demanding they tell me their passphrases. Everyone else had picked much lengthier passages of text and numbers. I manually tested each and none decrypted correctly. Except for the a$$word. What was it…

A lightning bolt hit me and I sprinted back to my own cubicle in the far corner, unlocked the screen and typed in “man getpass” on the command line, while logging into cryptoserv in another window and doing exactly the same thing there. I saw exactly what I needed to see. 

Today, should you try to read up the programmer’s manual (AKA the man page) on getpass, you will find it has been long declared obsolete and replaced with a more intelligent alternative in nearly all flavors of modern Unix.  

But back then, if you wanted to collect some information from the keyboard without printing what is being typed in onto the screen and remain POSIX-compliant, getpass did the trick. Other than a few standard file manipulation system calls, getpass was the only operating system service call I used, to ensure clean portability between Linux and Solaris. 

Except it wasn’t completely clean. 

Plain as day, there it was: the manual pages were identical, except Solaris had a “special feature”: any passphrase entered that was longer than 8 characters long was automatically reduced to that length anyway. (Who needs long passwords, amiright?!)

I screamed like a wounded animal. We generated the key on my Linux desktop and entered our novel-length passphrases right here. Attempting to restore them on a Solaris machine where they were being clipped down to 8 characters long would never work. Except, of course, for a$$word. That one was fine.

The rest was an exercise in high-speed coding and some entirely off-protocol file moving. We reconstructed the master key on my machine (all of our passphrases worked fine), copied the file to the Solaris-running cryptoserv, re-split it there (with very short passphrases), reconstructed it successfully, and PayPal was up and running again like nothing ever happened. 

By the time our unsuspecting colleagues rolled back into the office I was starting to doze on the floor of my cubicle and that was that. When someone asked me later that day why we took so long to bring the site back up, I’d simply respond with “eh, shoulda RTFM.” 

RTFM indeed. 

P.S. A few hours later, John, our General Counsel, stopped by my cubicle to ask me something. The day before I apparently gave him a sealed envelope and asked him to store it in his safe for 24 hours without explaining myself. He wanted to know what to do with it now that 24 hours have passed. 

Ha. I forgot all about it, but in a bout of “what if it doesn’t work” paranoia, I printed out the base64-encoded master key when we had generated it the night before, stuffed it into an envelope, and gave it to John for safekeeping. We shredded it together without opening and laughed about what would have never actually been a company-ending event. 

P.P.S. If you are thinking of all the ways this whole SSS design is horribly insecure (it had some real flaws for sure) and plan to poke around PayPal to see if it might still be there, don’t. While it served us well for a few years, this was the very first thing eBay required us to turn off after the acquisition. Pretty sure it’s back to a single passphrase now. 

Notes:

1: a member of Chicagoland sci-fi fan community let me know that the original news of our move to the US was delivered to them via a posted letter, snail mail, not FidoNet email! 

[axratsffxivwrite]

FFXIV Write Day 5 - Stamp (The Sharpest Gifts)

Tink. Tink. Tink. 

It had taken no small amount of effort for the clan to carve out a piece of Rabanastre for themselves, yet still, in this small section of the ruins, some semblance of life had returned. People were resilient, even in the face of utter destruction. 

The Lyros’ forge, settled in the midst of the cobbled mess of reconstruction, was both home and shop, the furnace burning hot outside as Miriam toiled away. Her father had retired for the evening, his orders done. Most of the locals had retreated to their own dwellings, either deep underground or in the few rebuilt structures scattered around. It was far from their once bustling city, but it was home, and not everyone was so ready to run off to Valnain and start new lives. 

With each strike of her hammer, steel began to take shape. The metal was folded and drawn out until she was satisfied, then painstakingly shaped blow by blow, molded into something resembling a Doman shortblade. She was no master craftsman like her father, but she was good enough. 

Gods, she hoped she was good enough. 

She dug deep into the back of her mind, focused intently on her studies in the Doman Enclave. Her time amongst the refugees there had not been long enough to attain any level of true mastery, but she refused to be dissuaded. This was important to her, and it was even more important to get it right.

As the sun fell low in the sky and the last of the daylight faded, she resigned herself to a break. The next evening she returned, working for as long as the light held out. 

Her first blade, she melted down after realizing she had overworked the metal. The second soon followed it in a fit of frustration over the shape of the point. Day after day, she spent every moment of her free time fussing over the forge. Blade after blade failed to suffice. 

On the fourth day, her father offered his assistance, but she refused. This project was hers and hers alone. 

On the sixth, she finally had a blade she was satisfied with. Her stomach tied itself into knots as she painstakingly marked out a shallow pattern in the blade, a series of scales and swirls meant to decorate but not deteriorate the performance of the blade. 

That one, too, she melted down after she cut too deep and ruined her work. 

On the seventh, she tried again. She forged a new blade, then heat-treated it before she etched it carefully with aether instead of tools. 

On the eighth day, now with a process that worked for her, she made the blade a twin. 

On the ninth day, she painstakingly carved the mold for her maker’s mark. For this, she did accept her father’s help, and side by side they designed and shaped the symbol by which her work would be known. No more just simply as an apprentice, but a craftswoman all her own. After hours of iterating and designing, she settled on an array of stylized chocobo feathers, arranged like the petals of a lily. 

Once the design was set and they had shaped the master die, they crafted the mold with which to cast her stamp. By the time the sun had fallen, she held in her hands her own metal seal with which to mark her work. 

It didn’t quite feel real. 

Upon the tang of each blade, she carefully stamped her maker’s mark into the patterned steel. 

On the tenth day, she sharpened the blades, shaped bronze into a proper habaki, then carved a simple wooden handle for each of them. She stained the handles with seed oil, leaving them a light brown while still accenting the wood grain. She carefully riveted each into place and paused for a moment to look over the fruits of her labor. Her heart swelled with joy, so relieved to finally have a finished piece she could have cried. 

The end result made every failed attempt so very worth it. 

Out of the same wood, she carved simple sheathes with thin profiles and stained them with the same oil. She took her time, refining them until she had a perfect fit for each of the blades. 

On the eleventh day, she measured and trimmed strips of leather to form the straps that would hold the sheathes in place upon their wielder. She carefully chose thin but sturdy, rounded buckles for the straps, redesigning them several times before she was satisfied the straps would lay as flat as possible. 

On the twelfth day, she placed both sheathed blades into a box and took her leave from the forge. She made her way through the winding, ruined streets of Rabanastre, her head kept on a swivel. A few ruffians and folks down on their luck eyed her with wariness and temptation, but the clan crest on her scarf held them at bay. 

Even those who turned to crime to survive rarely bit the hand that freely feeds. 

Miriam made her way to the settled ruin of an old storefront. The walls that yet stood were mostly settled, though the back wall was little more than a pile of rock and dust. The roof had caved in long ago, replaced instead with temporary canvas coverings that draped down over the rubble itself. A crimson cloth hung over the entryway in lieu of a door, the embroidered chocobo-feather fan crest of Clan Delima serving as both a deterrence for trouble and a promise of aid, if needed. 

She brushed aside the curtain without so much as knocking and stepped inside. There wasn’t a lot of usable area, what with half the space taken up by the pile of rubble. The near side of the room served as a chocobo nest, with clean straw and blankets so carefully arranged. Atop the nest sat a familiar plum-colored chocobo, his head raised to investigate the new intruder. Recognition in the warbird’s eyes, he let out a soft kweh in greeting. 

“Hello to you, too, Exodus.” 

The other side of the room was more lived-in, though not by much. A cot served to keep the bedroll off the floor, and a lantern – currently dimmed – sat to offer light once evening came. A footlocker sat against the edge of the rubble, an adventurer’s overflowing pack resting haphazardly atop it. 

“...hm, is Kin not here?” She asked Exodus. 

“Kweh!” He replied, helpful as a bird could be. 

“Well, I’ll wait, then.” 

She made herself comfortable and sat atop his cot, holding the wooden box in her lap. She passed the time by making smalltalk with Exodus – or, at least, she tried to. He offered the occasional chirp or call to acknowledge that she was speaking, but she doubted he had any real comprehension of her words. 

Though sometimes, he did make her wonder. 

As the day’s light began to dim to an amber glow, the curtain finally swept aside and that familiar, handsome young Viera she adored so much finally made an appearance. 

Kin’s dark hair had only grown shaggier as time went on, though he now adorned it with feathers and made something of an effort to style it in layers. He wore a loose linen shirt and vest and a tied-off shawl over his shoulders, with strips of red cloth tied around his belt. Black pants tucked neatly into his leather traveling boots, while a pair of matching leather bracers kept his sleeves from catching on the rubble. That familiar red bandana remained tied around his neck, right where it belonged. 

His eyes lit up as he saw her. He cast aside his bag unceremoniously and rushed over to her. 

“Miri! I’m sorry, were you waiting long? I was helping Marsil at the pub, I didn’t mean to…”

She stood and placed a hand on his chest, silencing him immediately. 

“It’s okay,” she replied, “I don’t mind. I wanted to surprise you, anyway.” 

With her other hand, she offered out the box to him. Her heartbeat began to quicken and her breath caught in her throat. What if he didn’t like them? What if she had sized the grips wrong? Made the blades too short? She had prioritized concealability over length, but had she gone too short? 

He blinked and took the box, his ears drooping to the side as he tilted his head. 

“What’s this?” He asked. 

“A gift.” She replied. “I, ah… I heard you were leaving again, so I wanted to make sure you had a little something from me.” 

He stepped aside and crouched beside the footlocker, setting the box down on what little empty space there was atop it. He carefully lifted away the lid and paused, his ears abruptly pivoting to the front as he focused his attention on the blades. He lifted one of the shortblades out and unsheathed it, his eyes widening as he took in the details on the etchings. 

After a moment, he ventured “...did you…?” 

“Make them? Yes. I even put my mark upon the tang. A little something of me to carry with you when you go.” She replied, wringing her hands. “It took a few tries to get it right, but I… I know you have a hard time hiding your blades sometimes, and I tried to make these as thin of a profile as I could without compromising their structure or making the grips uncomfortable to hold. They should be easier to conceal while still being effective, and when they're sheathed they're not immediately recognizable as daggers anyway.” 

Kin sheathed the blade and placed it back in the box. He placed the lid back atop the box and stood once more. Miriam swallowed back her nerves as he turned to face her. In lieu of a thanks he hooked a clawed finger under her chin and drew her close for a slow, tender kiss. 

All her fears faded into nothingness as she melted into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. She snaked her arms up over his chest and around his shoulders, while he held her waist and pulled her close. She surrendered himself to his lead, twining her fingers into his hair as he deepened the kiss. She could still taste the vague remnants of stew on his lips, smell the faint scent of hearth smoke that yet clung to him. 

When he finally, reluctantly, pulled away, she let out a contented sigh. You say you’re incapable of proper love, but you kiss me like that? I have my doubts, mister. 

Kin leaned his forehead against hers, breathing deep as he held her close. She leaned into him, content to take every moment she could before he left her once more. 

He murmured, “when are you expected home by?” 

“Dark, I imagine.” She replied. 

He offered an uncertain hum in response. “And here I had hoped to thank you properly…” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time I was held up at the pub…” 

“Well, in that case…” he slowly pulled away, raising a hand to gently caress her jaw. “...why don’t we go find somewhere a little less well-traveled?” 

“I think that sounds wonderful.” 

[mumms-the-word]

New Normal

Day 28 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

We're almost there guys :') I can't believe I've posted 28 fics about BG3 content here

I have Thoughts(TM) about what all of my Tav/Durges are doing after the game ends, after the epilogue, etc., but I wrote two for today (one was already written lol). If you're curious about what my Durges get up to, I've speculated in the tags since I haven't finished either game yet

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

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28. Describe your Tav/Durge's life after BG3 ends

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Nearly six months had passed since Dani and her little company, as she liked to call them, had defeated the Netherbrain, but her work was far from over. The brain had wrecked her beloved Baldur's Gate, and while she could shrug off the damage to the Upper City districts, she couldn’t ignore the rest of the city. So just as soon as the celebrations were over, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

She’d half expected Gale to tire of Baldur’s Gate and ask her to leave it for Waterdeep, but to her surprise, he’d also rolled up his sleeves and offered his services wherever they were needed. She might have been the one dragging him hither and thither, finding new projects to tackle alongside Jaheira’s Harpers and Nine-Fingers’ guild and the Flaming Fist loyal to Ravengard, but Gale’s spellwork was invaluable in every circumstance and he was quick to offer solutions when others struggled to think of any. When he wasn’t researching a way to salvage the crown from the river and reforge it to give to Mystra (or, having completed that, ways of cooling down Karlach's heart, ways of granting Astarion the ability to walk in the sun again, a cure for Shadowheart's Sharran wound, and much, much more), he was following Dani, lending his magical strength to her and those she sought to help.

She only loved him more for it. 

Together they worked to make sure the tiefling refugees were cared for. She knew the city well enough, even as damaged as it was, to know the best place for Danis and Bex to set up their bakery, or find shelter for the tieflings kids, who all seemed content enough to stick with Mol. Dammon was more than all set at his forge, Lakrissa and Alfira had already found a place on their own which they were turning into a music school, and Rolan had his tower, of course (and she would always be grateful for the fact that he opened up the tower’s resources to help with city’s reconstruction, too). It was only all too convenient that, apart of Rolan’s tower in the Upper City, the bakery, the forge, the music school, all of the homes and businesses of the tiefling refugees happened to be in the same district, even the same neighborhood. The Lower City had become a new home for the tieflings, with new families just waiting to take root.

She wasn’t entirely altruistic about her aid, however. As the savior of the city, she negotiated first pick of a house for her mother and another for the Rovers, both in good parts of the Lower City, before finally choosing a property for herself and Gale. Her mother and the Rovers would live near the new tiefling neighborhood where they could join in that community (if they so desired) while she and Gale secured a modest property overlooking the Chionthar and the hills beyond. The balcony didn’t quite offer the same sunset as Gale’s balcony in Waterdeep, but it was close.

It was in her little balcony that they sat now, six months since their victory, a bit tired from their day’s work but satisfied. Dani had decorated her balcony with a comfy loveseat similar to Gale’s in Waterdeep, and it was there that she loved to stretch out, her legs in Gale’s lap as she read a story or wrote down a song or, as their current personal project had become, jotting down notes and passages detailing their adventures in order to turn it into a book someday. Better to get a head start on Volo before he published his account with all the details all wrong. On evenings like this, Gale usually balanced a book on her legs or held the tome gingerly in one hand while his other hand absently smoothed up and down her calves. They spent many an afternoon like that, lost in their own little worlds, reading or writing.

At the moment, however, her legs once more in his lap, she was writing a letter to his mother, the slightly intimidating, dauntless Morena Dekarios. She remembered their first meeting all too well. Gale had insisted they take a break from their work in Baldur’s Gate to pay her a visit and break the news to her of their engagement in person. Dani agreed—after all, fair was fair. He had already met her mother, and her mother positively loved Gale. But Morena was another story entirely.

She was certain Morena would disapprove of her. Dani was hardly an elegant, well-educated woman of class or substance. And though Dani was rarely one to feel shaky nerves or stage fright, something about meeting Gale’s mother had made her palms sweaty and her brain second-guessing every decision that had led up to their meeting. She honestly, truly would have preferred to take on the Netherbain again, alone, than face Gale's mother and suffer her judgment.

But to her surprise, aside from a sharp once over the moment that Morena’s eyes had landed on her, she found Morena nothing but warm and welcoming. Morena was delighted that Gale had finally found someone to love him as much as she did and made Dani charmed and at ease in her lush Waterdhavian home. The only negative emotion Dani could discern from her was that she was a little sad that her boy had decided to live so far away...for now.

“It won’t be forever, right, my love?” Gale had said, turning to look at Dani. And though she wanted to protest a little—Baldur’s Gate was her home, after all, the place that had made her, had shaped her—she always had a hard time saying no to his warm, brown eyes. Or to adventure, when it called, and Waterdeep seemed like a place where adventure came in spades.

“We have work to complete in Baldur’s Gate,” she’d said, “but once that is done…I wouldn’t mind seeing what the City of Splendors has to offer.”

Of course, they were married in Baldur’s Gate, not Waterdeep. That part she had insisted on, feeling as though she might risk Morena’s ire to do so. But Morena had merely waved her hand, unflustered, and said it made sending invitations easier. Not every Dekarios liked to travel, it seemed.

The wedding itself had been quite small, by Waterdavian standards (so Gale had said) but she thought it was perfect. Her mother had made her wedding gown entirely from scratch, hand-stitching the embroidery along the hem of the skirt and around the neckline. Each member of the Merry Rovers had given her a sash to tie around her waist, as was customary for Baldur’s Gate bards. Brann had even gone a little misty-eyed when he put his sash, a soft, worn, light blue linen thing, in her hand. Liara had given her one in pinkish-red, insisting that she had been saving it for her own wedding day, but Dani clearly deserved it more. (Dani of course disagreed and promised to find an exquisite sash for Lee’s wedding, which was, they both agreed, long overdue.) Kellen had chosen a pleasant gold color, while Paraxxel, finally safe and recovering and back with the Rovers, had gone with a dark blue. The day of her wedding, Dani wore all four sashes from all four Rovers, arranging them so that each color was visible. 

Brann had insisted he and the Rovers play for the festivities after the ceremony, but Dani pointed out Liara would very disappointed not to dance, so Brann had relented and said they would only play half the time if Dani and her “fancy wizard fiancé” could conjure up a band to play the other half. Gale had gone one step further and learned a spell to conjure spirit instruments just for the occasion, though Dani and the Rovers had to teach them the music beforehand (not that she minded a reason to play with her old troupe again). 

She and Gale held their ceremony in a park overlooking the river, with tents and rugs and pillows and pieces of furniture scrounged together to make a half-decent ceremony and reception space for all the guests. Gale wanted to cast an illusion to create an entire palatial venue, but Dani told him to save his energy. She didn't care about the venue. She just wanted him there, and she wanted her friends there, and she wanted there to be music and dancing and food and wine and fun.

It didn't have to be perfect. She wasn't perfect. She didn't mind if all they did was pay a priest to say some words in the middle of the street, so long as she was well and truly married to him. Besides, the conglomeration of tents and furniture reminded her of the camps where their love had first formed. It may not impress her wealthier guests, but it was special to her.

They married at sunset, exchanging a kiss as the sun dipped down behind hills. Gale always did look best with the orange-gold light of a setting sun to make every warm tone in his face, eyes, and hair that much warmer. And he’d been swooningly handsome in his wedding garb, a gift from his mother and Tara, carefully selected to match Dani’s hand-made outfit without outshining it. She'd been all too giddy to show him off, to be on his arm. The Gale Dekarios, her new husband.

Nearly all their friends had made it, to her surprise. Astarion had to watch the ceremony from a safe, shadowy distance until the sun was set enough for him to join properly, but Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Jaheira, Minsc, Halsin, and a whole host of friends she’d made along the way—nearly every tiefling she’d bonded with, Jaheira’s kids, Florrick and Duke Ravengard of all people, and several others—they’d all been able to sit to view the ceremony itself. It was made all the more perfect when Gale surprised her with one of many wedding gifts, conjuring a scrying eye that allowed Karlach and Wyll to watch from Avernus and allowing Dani to briefly converse with them. She'd broken down in tears, missing two of her best friends, but she'd been grateful they would witness her wedding at all and that she could speak with them, even for a short time.

The post-ceremony festivities were a bit of a blur, now, a few weeks after all was said and done. Dani remembered getting Gale to dance not just once but several times, and dancing with plenty more people besides. Lee, Paraxxel, her mother, Brann, Shadowheart, even Astarion had deigned to join her for a brief turn. She remembered laughing often, kissing Gale often, hugging everyone she loved often. She remembered thinking that Baldur’s Gate had never looked so beautiful than it did in that park, surrounded by her friends and family, the trees hung with lanterns and fairy lights floating blissfully through the air.

And then it was over, and she and Gale had fallen into bed that night exhausted, only to rise the next morning with plans to return to the restoration of Baldur’s Gate.

That hadn’t happened, of course. They’d both slept in until around noon, and by that time they’d decided to just stay in for a day. Dani had promised Gale they’d go on a honeymoon trip as soon as they could be freed from a few obligations, but Gale had other plans. Since they were just going to stay at home for the day, why not make the most of it?

He’d spent hours conjuring illusions for her, starry galaxy skies and seas of stardust, as he used to do, but also grassy fields to lay in, mountain peaks to gaze out from, views from the deck of a ship sailing to far and exotic lands. In his visions she’d walked hand in hand with him through colorful markets and stood at the edge of canyons and valleys that took her breath away. And when his illusions started to wobble as he yawned and grew tired, she wrapped herself around him and kissed him a hundred times as thanks.

Alas, no rest for the wicked after that. They still had a city to rebuild. Books to write. Letters to answer. Patriars to ignore.

Dani smiled to herself as her pen paused on a sentence to Morena, glancing up at Gale. He was tracing idle circles in her leg with one hand while concentrating carefully on the book in his other hand. The setting sun glinted off his wedding band.

Like hers, it was made of two metals, a simple silver that had formerly been one of her many earrings and a beautiful gold that Gale had carefully selected from his mother's jewelry collection (which she was very quick to offer) to match the gold of Dani's eyes. They'd gotten Dammon to make two simple rings out of the metal and then found a jewelry smith to cut each ring in half, then join opposite halves together, and then engrave them. It was a Waterdhavian marriage custom, one that Dani had fallen in love with as Morena and Gale explained it to her. She flicked her gaze down to admire her own ring, appreciating the craftsmanship and what it meant to her and Gale, before looking back at him. He read on, absorbed in his own little world.

She took advantage of the moment to watch him, admiring his profile, the shape of his lips, how soft his hair looked. Her husband. Every time she thought that word she got a little giddy.

She shifted and reached out to brush her fingers against his shoulder, not wanting to disturb him too abruptly. But whatever had captured his attention, her touch had easily broken. He lowered the book immediately to turn and give her a smile, as if he'd been waiting for her to seek his attention.

“Yes, my love?”

She giggled slightly and sat up, shifting to sit comfortably in his lap. “I just wanted a kiss,” she said, weaving her fingers loosely together behind his neck. “Nothing much.”

“You know I am always willing to oblige you, my love,” he said, matching her smile. He set his book aside and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in to brush his lips against hers once, twice, several times.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

“I love you,” was his ready response. Always on his tongue, that little sentence. Always full of warmth and sincerity. He must have said it a thousand times already.

She looked forward to him saying it a thousand times more. Here, in Baldur's Gate, their new home, and beyond, in Waterdeep, on the road to new adventures, in the dark of the night, in the first hours of the morning.

She was happy to be in her city, seeing to its recovery, making sure everyone she loved had a warm home and that the city would be back to normal soon. But she knew deep down that it didn't really matter where she was. She was a Merry Rover, used to roaming. But now she was also Dani Dekarios, and she was content to be with Gale, her husband, wherever their adventures took them.

———

Ardynn gazed up at the stars, her head pillowed on Halsin’s bare arm as they lay, unclothed, on a threadbare blanket in a small clearing in the woods. Withers’ party had come and gone and they were on their way back to Thaniel’s lands, to the community they had built, together. Halsin was eager to regale the children with new stories for their bedtime tales and Ardynn was eager to settle once more into the life she had fought so hard to earn. A home of her own. A life partner to spend her days with. Children to care for and people to help as they built new lives in Thaniel’s recovering lands. 

Halsin had been shocked when she responded to his plans of leaving Baldur’s Gate to build a refuge in Thaniel’s realm by insisting that she would go with him. He’d been quick to mention all that she would be leaving behind, but she shook her head, pressing her hand to his heart and reassuring him that she was certain of what she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted to join him in his new purpose. She wanted to build a refuge with him, away from the city, where nature and society could live in a healthy balance. It was Halsin’s dream, but it had become hers, too.

So for the last six months, they’d worked together to build their little village, taking care of an entire gaggle of children, restoring buildings so that they could become homes for weary refugees, slowly but surely creating a home for themselves.

They had chosen a cabin that had been ripped in half by the destruction of the shadow curse, but had since been made whole again through Thaniel’s intervention. A living tree now grew up from the floorboards to hold part of the ceiling. Thick vines patched the holes in the walls and mossy rocks made up part of the new foundation. They tended their home as if it were another living thing in their care, because it was. 

She couldn’t wait until they were back home again.

The owlbear was coming with them, too. He slumbered deeply several feet away, curled up in the grass. She would have to figure out where he would sleep once they were back home, but she didn’t mind. She loved the big, silly creature.

And he wouldn’t be the only new addition to their community, before long.

She turned her head to watch Halsin. His eyes were closed in meditation, his breathing deep and even, but she knew that he would awake with the barest touch of her hand. She didn’t disturb his meditation just yet. She simply watched, smiling to herself, cradling close the news she would have to give him soon. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps in a few days.

It was easy to keep it a secret for now. For one, the idea terrified her as much as it thrilled her. For another, she didn’t know how Halsin might react to such news. It was still so new to her, it barely felt real. But even she couldn’t ignore the flutters in her body anymore, and after Shadowheart’s subtle comment at the party…

You feel a little more substantial than before.

There was no denying it now. Shadowheart had been teasing, had chalked it up to Ardynn’s new settled lifestyle, but Ardynn knew better. And after a few more moments of conversation, Shadowheart had gleaned part of the situation for herself.

“Swear to keep it a secret?” Ardynn asked her. “I haven’t told anyone else. Not even Halsin.”

“You don’t want to announce that kind of news at a party like this? You never know when we’ll all be gathered together again.”

“I’ll tell everyone in time. In my own way. Once I’m sure I’m not imagining things.”

Shadowheart had relented and kept her silence, but it had been a little thrilling, finally having a friend that was in on the secret. Finally feeling like she wasn’t just imagining the changes she felt. She’d almost asked Shadowheart to do some kind of diagnostic magic, just confirm her suspicions, but she’d held back. 

Now, though, she was absolutely certain. She pressed a hand to her belly and held her breath. There was a new, subtle firmness beneath her fingers, but that wasn’t what she was seeking. She closed her eyes, concentrating.

There. A tiny fluttering, almost so small as to be missed, deep within her. Unnoticeable by her fingers alone, but felt nonetheless.

Hello little one, she whispered silently in her mind.

She opened her eyes again, her face still turned toward Halsin’s. He remained deep in meditation, oblivious to her thoughts, her worries. She didn’t have to worry that he would be a terrible father. That part wasn't necessarily her concern. He lavished love and affection on the children that had accompanied them to live in Thaniel’s realm. She recalled the thought he had shared with her, spoken softly and mournfully, back when they were still in the city and had finally met Jaheira’s family.

I was never afforded a chance to start a family of my own. Serving nature always had to come first.

Now he had his family. He had dozens of children to share his love with, and a community of others who were helping to heal the land and tend to it. He had Thaniel, too, and he had her.

She just hoped there was a little bit of room left over in that big, fierce heart of his for one more.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She reached out and gently brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek, whispering his name. He turned his head, seeking more of her touch, as his eyes opened slowly. She waited until he was looking at her, fully awake, before smiling and cuddling closer into his side.

“I could stare at you for a lifetime,” he murmured, before she could say anything. The arm around her shifted and she felt his fingertips brush down her side. “Is there something wrong, my heart? I thought you would be asleep by now.”

She shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong. I was just thinking.” She took a deep breath and decided this would go better if she could more easily see his face. She sat up, shifting to settle on her knees and turning to face him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for several days now.”

“Oh?” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking pleasantly curious. It helped settle the bundle of nerves in her stomach a little. “Tell me, my love.”

She opened her mouth to say the words but found she couldn’t at first. She swallowed and tried again, her words coming out in a small whisper. “I think I am with child.”

She saw the change in his expression immediately. He stared, his lips parting slightly, and then his gaze flicked down to look at her bare middle. A look of sudden, avid, almost boyish curiosity stole over his features and he sat up, pressing one large hand to her stomach, golden nature magic glowing from his palm and sinking into her skin. She held her breath, watching his face as it changed from curiosity to baffled wonder to misty-eyed joy. She panicked a little when he dropped his head down, pressing both hands into the fabric of the blanket beneath him, only to feel her heart wrench when he lifted his head again and she saw the tears gathered in his eyes.

“You are,” he breathed. “You’re with child.”

“Your child,” she said, cradling his face in her hands. Tears were threatening her eyes too now, especially when the first teardrop tracked down his cheek. She rubbed it away with her thumb. “Our child, Halsin.”

He whispered something she didn’t catch, some prayer or praise to Silvanus, and gathered her up in his arms, hugging her fiercely to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and hid her face in his neck, fighting the urge to laugh and to cry all at the same time. He laid back with her still held tightly in his arms before finally letting her go.

She pushed herself up on her hands, gazing down at him and finding his face wet with tears even as he grinned widely, elated. She laughed slightly and wiped the tears from his face. “You’re a bit big to be crying,” she said, recalling the words Oliver had said to him all those months ago. Halsin laughed too, wrapping his arms loosely around her middle.

“How could I not? I am not ashamed.”

“And you’re not upset?” she asked, still brushing her fingertips against his cheeks. She paused to lay a hand on his chest, gazing earnestly down at him. “We have so many children to look after already, and much work to do besides.”

“Upset? Far from it. A child of my own blood…” He caressed her face with his hand, sinking his fingers into her hair, and she couldn’t help but nuzzle into his palm out of habit. “It was a distant dream. I never assumed anyone would wish to stay with me long enough to make that a reality. And yet…here you are. Choosing me again and again.”

“I will always choose you,” she whispered. She pressed her hand more firmly against his chest, over his heart. “Always, Halsin. For as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled, his face beaming with joy and love, and guided her head down so that they could kiss. She lost herself in his kisses for a moment, happy to be pressed against him, skin to skin, with only the moonlight as their witness. But then she felt his smile against her lips and his laughter against her body.

“I shall have to take better care of you once we are back home,” he murmured.

“And you shall have to be careful not to spoil our child more than you spoil any of the others,” she teased, pulling back to grin down at him. She knew he wouldn’t. Halsin loved all the children equally. It didn’t matter whether they were his blood or not. 

“Our child,” he breathed, still caressing her cheek and gazing lovingly up at her. “I can scarcely believe it.”

She smiled and bent forward for another kiss. “I love you, Halsin,” she whispered.

“And I love you, my heart.” He pressed his hand to her belly again, turning his head to direct his voice downward toward it. “And I love you, little one.”

She giggled and rolled to the side until she was curled up against his side again. She guided one of his hands to rest on her belly and snuggled in close, closing her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Nor I, my heart. Nor I.”

[euphorial-docx]

10 horror or horror-adjacent movie recommendations from a certified horror fan :)

*rank is not to show best to worst. i just like numbering things.

1. WYRMWOOD

synopsis: a survivor of a zombie plague prepares to slash his way through a horde of sinister soldiers and ravenous monsters to rescue his kidnapped sister.

rating: not rated, but probably would be rated r

rotten tomatoes: 82% critics, 58% audience

review: if you like indie horror, this is for you. if you like more big-budget and clean films, then don’t even bother. despite being a little rough, this movie is a lot of fun and has one of the most memorable plot twists i’ve ever seen. a very creative take on a zombies. there’s a sequel, but i haven’t seen it yet.

2. ESCAPE ROOM

synopsis: six strangers find themselves in a maze of deadly mystery rooms and must use their wits to survive

rating: pg-13

rotten tomatoes: 50% critics, 53% audience

synopsis: is this movie great? nope! is it a lot of fun? hell yeah it is! the set pieces are stunning, and even though it leans into some lazy horror cliches, i think there’s enough creativity to keep it interesting. good for a fun movie night where you don’t want anything too serious or too mind-consuming. there’s also a sequel for this too, but i don’t really recommend it lol.

3. 28 DAYS LATER

synopsis: a group of misguided animal rights activists free a caged chimp infected with the "rage" virus from a medical research lab. when london bike courier jim wakes up from a coma a month after, he finds his city all but deserted. on the run from the zombie-like victims of the rage, jim stumbles upon a group of survivors, including selena and cab driver frank, and joins them on a perilous journey to what he hopes will be safety.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 87% critics, 85% audience

review: one of my favorite movies of all time, so maybe i’m biased. it is absolutely terrifying at times, but i feel it’s a good mix of social commentary, drama, and gore. also, cillian murphy.

4. 28 WEEKS LATER

synopsis: six months after the original epidemic, the rage virus has all but annihilated the population of the british Isles. nevertheless, the u.s. army declares the danger past, and american soldiers arrive to restore order and begin reconstruction. refugees return to british soil, but one of them carries a deadly secret: the virus is not gone and is even more dangerous than before.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 72% critics, 66% audience

review: bloody. terrifying. shocking. while the characters are a bit harder to care about, this movie has an eerie and dreadful atmosphere that immerses you and scenes that will hit you like a truck. there is one scene in particular that has stuck with me my entire life because of how gory and unsettling it is. if you don’t like violence, skip this one.

5. UNDERWORLD

synopsis: under cover of night, vampires engage in an age-old battle with their sworn enemies, the lycans, a clan of violent werewolves. selene, a vampire orphaned in the wake of a bloody lycan attack, works for the vampire clan as a trained killer. when the lycans take a mysterious interest in michael corvin, an exceptional mortal doctor, selene struggles to save him from lucian, a ruthless lycan leader hellbent on ending the vampire bloodline.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 31% critics, 79% audience

review: more horror-adjacent and supernatural flick. i remember loving the entire series, but i can mostly only remember the first. it’s been a hot minute since i’ve watched it, but it has a stylish gothic atmosphere, a cool female lead, and is so early 2000s/late 90s in a great way (in my opinion, at least.) it’s an under-appreciated, and divisive, action-horror classic.

6. BONES AND ALL

synopsis: love blossoms between a young woman on the margins of society and a disenfranchised drifter as they embark on a 3,000-mile odyssey through the backroads of america. however, despite their best efforts, all roads lead back to their terrifying pasts and a final stand that will determine whether their love can survive their differences.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 81% critics, 62% audience

review: you guys knew it would be here. another horror-adjacent recommendation in the form of horror-romance about cannibals. it’s is deeply romantic in all its gore, and unsettles just as much as it comforts. beautiful atmosphere, beautiful scenery, beautiful acting, beautiful music— everything about it is beautiful, but bloody enough to remind you why it got its r rating.

7. HELLBOY (2004)

synopsis: at the end of wwii, the nazis attempt to open a portal to a paranormal dimension in order to defeat the allies, but are only able to summon a baby demon who is rescued by allied forces and dubbed "hellboy.” 60 years later, hellboy serves as an agent in the bureau of paranormal research and defense, where he, aided by abe sapien, a merman with psychic powers, and liz sherman, a woman with pyrokinesis, protects america against dark forces.

rating: pg-13

rotten tomatoes: 82% critics, 66% audience

review: it’s a sci-fi/action/fantasy, but in my heart i know it’s got some horror in it. hellboy has some stunning set designs and makeup/styling that make this movie stand out amongst other comic book adaptations. ron perlman is the definitive hellboy, and guillermo del toro gave this story a unique sense of style and wit. (also, abe sapien? one of my favorite character ever.)

8. READY OR NOT

synopsis: grace couldn't be happier after she marries the man of her dreams at his family's luxurious estate. there’s just one catch— she must now hide from midnight until dawn while her new in-laws hunt her down with guns, crossbows and other weapons. as grace desperately tries to survive the night, she soon finds a way to turn the tables on her not-so-lovable relatives.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 89% critics, 78% audience

review: a lot of recent horror movies have let me down, but ready or not is refreshing for the genre. it has a compelling dark humor, as well as clever writing that both makes you laugh and keeps you on the edge of your seat. i highly recommend to any and everyone. it’s great! it’s not a tough watch and easily makes you want to pay attention without it feeling like a chore.

9. X

synopsis: a group of actors sets out to make an adult film in rural texas under the noses of their reclusive hosts, but when the elderly couple catches their young guests in the act, the cast finds themselves in a desperate fight for their lives.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 94% critics, 75% audience

review: it may take on the classic slasher formula, but ti west’s direction keeps it fresh. i will say it kind of meanders a little bit, but generally it’s a good time with some good kills and a nice slowburn that doesn’t leave you unsatisfied once the credits roll.

10. NOPE

synopsis: a man and his sister discover something sinister in the skies above their california horse ranch, while the owner of a nearby theme park tries to profit from the mysterious, otherworldly phenomenon.

rating: r

rotten tomatoes: 83% critics, 69% audience

review: jordan peele is amazing. nope is an alien horror flick that expertly builds suspense and keeps you locked in, even when you don’t want to be. some scenes in this film have disturbed me more than anything else i’ve ever seen. the alien itself is imposing and brings a sense of anxiety, and the characters are charming and witty. daniel kaluuya and keke palmer are fantastic leads. also, we love smart horror protagonists!

[knuckle]

GENEVA (19 October 2023) – UN experts* today expressed outrage against the deadly strike at Al Ahli Arab Hospital in Gaza City, which killed more than 470 civilians on Tuesday (17) and trapped hundreds under the rubble. The strike reportedly followed two warnings issued by Israel that an attack on the hospital was imminent if people inside were not evacuated. “The strike against Al Ahli Arab Hospital is an atrocity. We are equally outraged by the deadly strike on the same day on an UNRWA school located in Al Maghazi refugee camp that sheltered some 4000 displaced people, as well as two densely populated refugee camps,” the experts said. The experts raised serious humanitarian and legal concerns over Israel tightening its 16-year siege of the enclave and its population and long-standing occupation, depriving 2.2 million people of essential food, fuel, water, electricity and medicine. An estimated 50,000 pregnant women in Gaza, are in desperate need of prenatal and postnatal care. The number of internally displaced people across the Gaza Strip is estimated at around one million.

They recalled that the UN Security Council has repeatedly condemned the use of starvation of civilians as a method of warfare, which is prohibited under international humanitarian and criminal law. The unlawful denial of humanitarian access and depriving civilians of objects indispensable to their survival are also a violation of international humanitarian law, the experts warned. The UN experts called for the protection of all humanitarian workers, after the World Health Organization (WHO) documented more than 136 attacks on health care services in the occupied Palestinian territory, including 59 attacks on the Gaza Strip, which resulted in the death of at least 16 health workers since the beginning of hostilities on 7 October. Israeli bombardment on Gaza has also killed 15 staff of the United Nations Refugee Works Agency (UNRWA) and four Palestine Red Crescent paramedics in an ambulance. An ambulance driver of Magen David Adom in Israel lost his life while driving to treat injured people. “The complete siege of Gaza coupled with unfeasible evacuation orders and forcible population transfers, is a violation of international humanitarian and criminal law. It is also unspeakably cruel,” the experts said. They recalled that the wilful and systematic destruction of civilian homes and infrastructure, known as ‘domicide’, and cutting off drinking water, medicine, and essential food is clearly prohibited under international criminal law. “We are sounding the alarm: There is an ongoing campaign by Israel resulting in crimes against humanity in Gaza. Considering statements made by Israeli political leaders and their allies, accompanied by military action in Gaza and escalation of arrests and killing in the West Bank, there is also a risk of genocide against the Palestine people,” the experts said. “There are no justifications or exceptions for such crimes. We are appalled by the inaction of the international community in the face of belligerent war-mongering,” the experts said. “The Gazan population, half of whom are children, have already suffered many decades of unlawful brutal occupation and lived under the blockade for 16 years,” the experts said. “It is time to immediately cease fire and ensure urgent and unimpeded access to essential humanitarian supplies, including food, water, shelter, medicine, fuel and electricity. The physical safety of the civilian population must be guaranteed,” the experts said. “The occupation needs to end and there must be reparation, restitution and reconstruction, towards full justice for Palestinians,” they said.

[angsty-prompt-hole]

Character Introduction: The Main Gang

WIP: A Hero’s Call

The main gang is the second group of protagonists, all of whom are slowly introduced at different points in later parts of the Dimension Jumpers saga. The group consists of Lucent “Mallory Perrault” Ran’kai, Kralik Windwalker, Sierra Reaves, Rodney Miller, Jackson Merrick, Isa Lee, and Scissura. Drawn together by the common threat of Chaos and his cult, they have to both navigate their own personal problems and attempt to reconstruct the history of the people who became dimension jumpers before them, all while trying to keep Chaos from killing them all.

Lucent Ran’kai/Mallory Perrault: A warrior refugee from a war-torn planet of ice and snow, who has been a war prisoner for the better part of two years. It’s hard for her to adjust outside of the world she had known since she was fourteen, and her traumatic past has left her vulnerable to all sorts of manipulations. She is prone to misunderstanding people and meeting all situations with violence, and Kira has her work cut out for her when Lucent randomly appears in her living room one day.

Kralik Windwalker: An exiled troublemaker hopping between worlds, always looking to cause mischief. His mischief-making gets him in hot water when he meets the Dresden Crew, however, but soon enough he discovers that maybe his days of running are over. Will it last, though, when he can’t even bear to face the darkness within himself?

Sierra Reaves: The daughter of interdimensional bounty hunters, she inherited her Mark from her mother, and with it the powers of the dimension jumpers. She and her boyfriend Rodney come from a world of powerful demonic forces, and after a battle with Satan himself, she ends up half-demon and with acidic blood. A taker of no shit, she sometimes can’t fathom what forces drove her and Rodney towards the rest of the Main Gang.

Rodney Miller: The middle child in a family of demon hunters, and the only survivor of a demonic attack that took the rest of his family, Rodney is serious and incredibly talented, despite what his habits may indicate. After an adventure to Hell with his girlfriend Sierra to avenge the death of his family, Rodney thought he could finally get some peace. At least, until Kira Shade showed up on their doorstep.

Jackson Merrick: Jackson was taken in by an interdimensional biker gang called the Bloodhunters after he ran away from his abusive home. There, he ended up falling in love with a man named Edrisa and gaining his dimension jumper’s Mark. After a shootout left Edrisa dead, Jackson’s grief activated a deeply hidden power: the power to bring the dead back to life. Fearing what the gang would use his powers for, he ran again until he came across Isa Lee in another world. Of everyone, he is the most resistant to being drawn into whatever fate has planned for the Main Gang, but only because it endangers him and Isa.

Isa Lee: The daughter of a human man and a Queen of one of the faerie courts, Isa’s life had been one of lies and trickery, until the day she got her Mark and gained the powers of a dimension jumper. She used this power to hide herself away in the forest, where the fae couldn’t find her and where she could live as she pleased, away from the politics of her mother’s court. After running into Jackson in the woods, she saw they had a common bond, and she invited him to live with her. A healer at heart, she could never live with herself if she let any of the others get hurt.

Scissura: A shapeshifter from a jungle planet who harbors a deep vitriolic hatred of the dimension jumpers due to the actions of one of their predecessors, which ended in her having to share her body with the entity known as Red. She heads a group known as the Guardians, who take missions in other worlds as bodyguards and protectors of the innocent. She views her powers as a curse and is livid when Kira accidentally ends up at her doorstep. Unfortunately for her, her group’s fate rests on being able to stop Chaos and his armies from destroying everything.

[samanthasvietnameselitblog]

Five Interesting Nonfiction Books

"The Tale of Kieu: A Bilingual Edition of Nguyen Du's Truyen Kieu" by Nguyen Du

Since its publication in the early nineteenth century, this long narrative poem has stood unchallenged as the supreme masterpiece of Vietnamese literature. Thông’s new and absorbingly readable translation (on pages facing the Vietnamese text) is illuminated by notes that give comparative passages from the Chinese novel on which the poem was based, details on Chinese allusions, and literal translations with background information explaining Vietnamese proverbs and folk sayings.(Amazon)

2. "Where the Ashes Are: The Odyssey of a Vietnamese Family" by Nguyen Qui Duc"

Nguyen, less one of his siblings, an older sister who suffers from mental illness, leaves Viet Nam as a refugee in 1975, while his parents stay behind for different reasons. His father, in particular, as a high ranking South Vietnamese governmental official, subsists in prison for many years. Nguyen’s re-writing of his father’s experiences are interesting in that it obviously would have taken an immense amount of interviewing and temporal reconstruction. Nguyen also relies upon poems that his father had written during his time in prison to help nuance the incredible challenges of his life as a prisoner; his constant movement, the endless monotonous days, and the persistent interrogation remind me much of Xiaoda Xiao’s work on life in prisons during and after China’s Cultural Revolution. His mother tries to remake her life in the post-war regime and maintains a steadfast hope that she will be reunited with her husband.(DVAN)

3. "The Mountains Sing" by Nguyen Phan Que Mai

It’s a sweeping multigenerational story of Tran Dieu Lan and her family’s life from the 1920s to the present. Tran’s family was originally from the North. During the communist land reforms, her family was forced to migrate to Hanoi.(The Bamboo Traveler)

4. "Eating Viet Nam: Dispatches from a Blue Plastic Table" by Graham Holliday

A journalist and blogger takes us on a colorful and spicy gastronomic tour through Viet Nam in this entertaining, offbeat travel memoir, with a foreword by Anthony Bourdain.

Growing up in a small town in northern England, Graham Holliday wasn’t keen on travel. But in his early twenties, a picture of Hanoi sparked a curiosity that propelled him halfway across the globe. Graham didn’t want to be a tourist in an alien land, though; he was determined to live it. An ordinary guy who liked trying interesting food, he moved to the capital city and embarked on a quest to find real Vietnamese food. In Eating Viet Nam, he chronicles his odyssey in this strange, enticing land infused with sublime smells and tastes.(Amazon)

5. "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien

Lieutenant Jimmy Cross, of the Alpha Company, carries various reminders of his love for Martha, a girl from his college in New Jersey who has given no indication of returning his love. Cross carries her letters in his backpack and her good-luck pebble in his mouth. After a long day’s march, he unwraps her letters and imagines the prospect of her returning his love someday. Martha is an English major who writes letters that quote lines of poetry and never mention the war. Though the letters are signed “Love, Martha” Cross understands that this gesture should not give him false hope. He wonders, uncontrollably, about whether or not Martha is a virgin. He carries her photographs, including one of her playing volleyball, but closer to his heart still are his memories. They went on a single date, to see the movie Bonnie and Clyde. When Cross touched Martha’s knee during the final scene, Martha looked at him and made him pull his hand back. Now, in Vietnam, Cross wishes that he had carried her up the stairs, tied her to the bed, and touched her knee all night long. He is haunted by the cutting knowledge that his affection will most likely never be returned.(Sparknotes)

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Tucked away in an amendment to the FY2023 U.S. defense authorization bill is a rare instance of congressional bipartisanship and a tribute to U.S. President Ulysses S. Grant.

If approved, the measure would posthumously promote Grant to the rank of General of the Armies of the U.S., making him only the third person – along with John J. Pershing and George Washington – to be awarded the nation’s highest military honor.

As Executive Director of the Ulysses S. Grant Presidential Library, I believe that the promotion would be much more than a symbolic nod to a great military general. Rather, it would highlight the overlooked legacy of a man who fought to end the last vestiges of slavery.

OUTBREAK OF CIVIL WAR

During the Civil War, Grant rose to fame as a decisive leader who was willing to doggedly pursue Confederate armies and avoid retreat at all costs. He first gained his reputation for tenacity with Union victories at Shiloh, the Battles for Chattanooga and the Siege of Vicksburg.

Like most white Northerners, Grant signed up to fight for the Union – not for emancipation.

But by 1862, the freedom of enslaved African Americans had become vital to the Union war strategy, if not yet its cause.

A year before President Abraham Lincoln signed in 1863 the Emancipation Proclamation that freed enslaved people in the Confederate states, Grant oversaw the establishment of refugee, or contraband camps, throughout the Mississippi Valley. Those camps provided basic housing, food and work for Black men and women who had fled from slavery.

Grant also administered the enlistment of African American men into United States Colored Troops units during the Vicksburg campaign.

In March 1864, Lincoln appointed Grant to the rank of lieutenant general and ordered him to take on the Confederate Army in Virginia, a task at which numerous other Union leaders had failed.

At this point during the war, Grant assumed the role of chief strategist for the entire Union war effort. It took the next 13 months of fighting during the Overland campaign before Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox on April 9, 1865.

In this illustration, Gen. Ulysses S, Grant, left, accepts the surrender of Gen. Robert E. Lee. (Getty Images)

After the Federal victory, many Americans hailed Grant as the man who saved the Union.

But Grant was magnanimous in victory.

Multiple times during the war he honored the dignity of his defeated adversaries, most famously at Appomattox, where he did not require Lee to hand over his sword, as usually required. Grant also allowed Confederate officers to keep their sidearms and horses.

Lee appreciated Grant’s actions, remarking: “This will have the best possible effect upon the men … it will be very gratifying, and will do much toward conciliating our people.”

IMPACT OF THE ‘LOST CAUSE’

But after the war, the conciliatory feelings vanished.

Southern partisans constructed the narrative of the “Lost Cause.” It held that the root of the Civil War was not slavery, but the rights of states to control their own destinies. It further held that the Union victory had nothing to do with Confederate character or leadership, but rather the Union’s sheer numbers and superior resources.

In this Lost Cause narrative, Grant was seen as a bumbling butcher devoid of any meaningful strategic vision, who succeeded only by mercilessly throwing more soldiers at his enemy. It also revived the old rumors of his excessive drinking.

In this storyline, Grant’s foil was always the courtly gentleman, Robert E. Lee. The hagiography of Lee demanded Grant’s inferiority.

By the early 20th century, the Lost Cause was no longer isolated in the South and had spread across America. Crowds flocked to see the racist anti-Reconstruction “Birth of a Nation” in movie theaters, and during the World War I rush to build military bases, the Army named 10 of them after Confederate generals.

PRESIDENT GRANT’S FIGHT FOR EQUALITY

Grant served as President from 1869 to 1877 during a time when white Southerners proved hostile toward federal Reconstruction measures that sought equal rights for recently freed enslaved people.

Grant saw his role of enforcing these policies as an extension of his wartime duty and necessary to protect the gains of the Union victory, especially the newly established rights for African Americans.

He used the resources of the federal government to crush the Ku Klux Klan, established the Department of Justice to investigate civil rights abuses and signed the Civil Rights Act of 1875.

GRANT’S LATEST CAUSE

In recent years, the American public has questioned the Lost Cause and taken steps to mitigate its pervasiveness throughout the U.S.

Southerners themselves have chosen to remove Confederate leaders from town squares and state flags. The U.S. Army has established a Naming Commission to rebrand Confederate-named bases.

It is telling, too, that Grant’s Presidential Library is now located in Mississippi, a Deep South state he once conquered.

It remains to be seen whether the request made to elevate Grant’s rank by U.S. Senators Sherrod Brown of Ohio, a Democrat, and Roy Blunt of Missouri, a Republican – along with GOP U.S Rep. Ann Wagner – will be finally approved by Congress as part of the FY2023 National Defense Authorization Act.

Either way, in my view, a thoughtful reconsideration of Grant’s wartime and post-war contributions is long overdue.

[partnersrelief]

"They burned my hands."

Photo: Our team met Pah La Er* on a relief trip in Karen State earlier this year.

1.

Pah La Er*

was captured and tortured by the Myanmar Army.  It’s not easy viewing. But his story mustn't be left unseen. Watch.  Share. Respond.

*pseudonym used for safety.

2.

Niss 

recently told our SEED staff an all-too familiar narrative.

“I studied in a government school for 9 years…they didn’t want the students to know how the Myanmar military committed violence against and killed our Shan people.”

Read how she’s working to help other kid’s dreams come true.

3.

Leaving

home behind again. But this time, the reason is worth celebrating. Ten Rohingya refugee families, most led by mothers like Fatema, recently moved into their newly reconstructed homes. Built by you, to keep them safe and dry.

4.

Pest control 

isn’t usually in our wheelhouse.  Until kids in Newroz and Roj camps in Northeast Syria start suffering sores from infected fly bites. Then it’s our thing. With your help, these pesky flies are biting the dust.

Photo: Local partners completing a pest treatment at a camp in Northeast Syria.

5.

Joyful 

scenes that make our hearts sing. Our local partner Inhalation of Hope’s most recent 3-month trauma care session has wrapped up with what all kids deserve: a celebration.

Photos: The graduation party held to celebrate the students completing their 3-month session.

Kids who have experienced the trauma of war smiling again is just another sign this hope-filled work you’re a part of is truly transformative. Thanks for sticking at it with us. 

Your friends at Partners.

Donate Now.

[phantomsthought]

A short imagine i had in mind

Main characters: Garrus Vakarian, Kaiden Alenko, Crow Shepard

Kaiden Alenko had just gotten out of the hospital, Commander Crow Shepard coming to see him on his hospital release. Kaiden and Crow had worked together on many occasions, and they had a very strong bond. Saving the galaxy once or twice with someone will definitely make you close to someone. They had also grieved Ashley’s death together, after Virmire.

Crow gently punched Kaidens shoulder, “Welcome back soldier.” He laughed lightly, shooing her hand away. Crow fixed their jacket that had “N7” on the right of the chest, and a long red stripe down the left arm. It mimicked the Normandy’s signature uniform.

There was a suffocating silence before Kaiden spoke up, “So, what happened at Horizon…” this was a conversation that was begging to be talked about, but both of them felt it was awkward or uncomfortable to bring it up.

Before Crow had ‘died,’ Kaiden and her were romantically involved with eachother. Both loved eachother to the ends of the universe. After she ‘died,’ Cerberus had claimed her body, and reconstructed the human specter. She was brought back to life, two years later. On a mission to collect intel on collectors and save a colony on horizon, Kaiden had seen Crow. They’d been separated for two years.

Kaiden had grieved her for the two years, he couldn’t seem to accept his commander, his lover, was just dead. It seemed he was right not to accept it, because there she was standing right in front of him. He yelled at her, after they hugged. He was upset, he blamed Crow for a moment, for dying. For not contacting him when she came back. It wasn’t her fault, and he knew that, but he was so upset, so shocked. He had broken up with her, leaving crow behind on horizon.

A few days after Kaiden had sent a message to Crow, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. He tried explaining himself, and after that they hadn’t spoken much. A year or so later, Crow Shepard and Kaiden met again when the reapers were starting to attack. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. Her red hair was tied back into a ponytail, a few strands of hair falling over her forehead. Her Snow White eyes that, weren’t originally like that. When Cerberus reconstructed her, her eyes had changed from the dark green to a silver. She stood confidently, she walked as if nothing could stand in her way. Kaiden missed her.

Crow cleared her throat, “what about horizon?” Kaiden looked down at the floor as they walked to the elevator, “are we good?” Crow Shepards eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “yeah, we’re fine. I have your back, you have mine right?” She asked, leaning against the wall of the elevator as he punched in a location.

Kaiden shook his head “yes but- that’s not what I meant. You had my back in the field but you also genuinely talked to me. You listened, when I was heart broken, about brain camp, all of it. We were really close. Are we still, good?” Crow looked over at the second human specter, whose eyes were looking into hers, waiting for an answer. He looked nervous. Crow nodded, “we’re good, Alenko. I’ll always be here if you need me.” The tenseness in his shoulders eased as he heard commander Shepard confirm that they were still close.

“Good. I’m here for you too commander.” Kaiden stated with a nod. Their elevator stopped, and they walked out into the dock holding area. It was like a refugee camp at this point, so many people stuck there. Crow walked out of the elevator, heading down the stairs. Kaiden wanted to ask if she had lost feelings for him, romantically, but before he could ask he heard a voice call “Shepard!” It sounded like Garrus. And when the two turned around, bud guess was right. He looked at Crow, how she practically glowed when she saw the Turian.

“Garrus! I was just about to see if you were here.” Crow said, walking to the approaching Turian. Garrus glanced at Kaiden, looking at the jealousy in his eyes. He looked back at Shepard, putting a hand on her shoulder, “Aw, miss me?” He laughed. Crow nodded “of course, it’s boring without archangel.” She teased, and Garrus chuckled. “But I wanted advice, since Kaiden got released from the hospital and is now the second human specter, I wanted to have a celebration for him.” She spoke, motioning to Alenko.

Kaiden raised a brow “Celebration? Commander it’s not that big of a deal you don’t have to.” Crow waved away his words “But I want to. You could use some fun after being tucked away in a hospital for so long.” She looked back at Garrus, whose eyes were trained on her. “I think it’s a great idea Shepard. We can throw a party on the Normandy.” He offered, to which Crow excitedly agreed, turning to Kaiden, “You can finally see the upgrades our baby got.” Kaiden chuckled “Our baby?” He asked, teasing Crow. She’s always referred to the Normandy as her baby, she cared a lot about the ship. With good reason, it had a lot of good memories.

Garrus watched as Crow and Kaiden spoke, and he took this as an opportunity to move his arm around Shepards shoulders. She didn’t do anything but lean into the Turian slightly, as if this was natural. Garrus watched as Kaidens eyes flickered from his arm, to Crow, to Garrus, to Shepard again. The jealousy flared again. Garrus knew that Kaiden and Crow were partners before, he was who Crow went to to talk about their relationship the most. Garrus had always been there for Crow, since the first meeting.

“It’s settled then. I can go buy the stuff and you boys can head up to the Normandy.” Crow said, crossing her arms. Kaiden shook his head, “You’ll need some help with getting everything, I mean the parties you throw are always big. I can help.” Garrus stepped in as well, “how about Edi and Joker take Kaiden, and you and I could go get the supplies?” He suggested.

Crow paused, thinking the choices over. “I don’t mind seeing the ship later, I want to help you out first commander.” Kaiden assured her, and then looked at Garrus “Don’t you have a thing with Calibrating? I don’t want to keep you from that, it’s pretty important to you.” At this point, he was picking at Garrus a bit. They used to do this playfully, but it was more targeted this time. Garrus chuckled airily and held Crow tighter “I don’t mind putting some calibrations off to help my Shepard.”

Kaiden couldn’t tell if he mixed up commander and crows last name, or if it was on purpose. Crow rolled her eyes “okay girls you’re both pretty. Kaiden you can look for food you want around the citadel restaurants and get them and bring them to the Normandy. I’ll get the booze, Garrus-“ “you have a bad taste in booze. I’ll help.” Garrus playfully made fun of her, to which she scoffed “Y’know what maybe I’ll just take Kaiden instead.” Crow said playfully, pushing the Turian.

They all decided to wander around the citadel shops until they had what they needed, rendezvousing  at the Normandy.

They set everything up, and sat in the crew deck drinking a little, playing games, catching up. Kaiden and Crow played card games with the crew, and he ended up losing, and Crow ended up winning almost all of the time. Kaiden noticed Garrus was always close to Shepard, sitting next to her, standing behind her when she was playing cards and he wasn’t. Kaiden started wondering if Crow had moved on, and it was to Vakarian.

Kaiden pulled Crow to the side at some point, “Can we go somewhere quiet for a bit? It’s a little loud.” He asked. Crow nodded immediately “are you having another one of your headaches?” She asked, putting a hand on the hand he had put on her arm to get her attention. He hesitated, but nodded. It made sense, he had headaches constantly because of his biotic implants. She grabbed two glasses of water, and slipped back over to Kaiden. “We can go over to observation, it’s quiet there.” She offered.

The two made it to the observation deck, the doors sliding closed behind them as they sat down in the middle of the floor. Crow had opened the shutters so they could look out at the stars, and placed the glasses of water between the two of them. It was quiet, but a comfortable quiet. Kaiden glanced over at Crow, the commander pulling her knees to her chest and looking outside. “I missed the Normandy.” Kaiden said, to which Crow hummed. “You can always be apart of the crew again, you know.”

Kaiden sighed, “yeah I thought about that. I want to go out and do stuff as a specter first. See what’s out there on my own. But, I’ll definitely come back for you. And the crew.” Crow nodded slightly, looking over at him “there will always be a room waiting for you Specter Kaiden Alenko.” She smiled softly and picked up her glass, motioning to his “drink it, it’ll help with the headache.” He did so, taking small sips of his water as Shepard and him caught up, having small chats.

He missed this. They used to do this on the first Normandy, he and Crow would sit in one of the quieter rooms and just talk. Not about anything particular, just whatever came to mind. It was refreshing. When it went silent, Kaiden tried to build up the courage to ask a question. After a moment he did. “So,, are you and Garrus a thing?” He asked. Crow glanced over, and sighed.

She turned to face him, putting her glass down. “What you did at Horizon, it hurt. You left me. You blamed me, for dying. Not contacting you while I was dead. What you said to me, I couldn’t help but feel bad about. Garrus, he’s been there for me the day I met him. He’s always come back to us. Even when it was hard. I went to find him on Omega, and he was the same. He was my rock when things got really hard. And when you abandoned me on horizon, he was there for me.”

Kaiden nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Crow.” She shrugged, “it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me as much anymore.” They sat there for a while, before they returned to the party. Kaiden was jealous of Crow and Garrus, but he was happy for Crow. He knew he would never let her go though. Never again would he let go of Commander Crow Shepard.

He’d always love her. as long as she was happy he’d be okay. And if she was happy with Vakarian, who was he to try and fill a position that was already taken when he left on horizon.

Excuze how badly written this is it’s 1 am and I am writing about my comfort game

[mariacallous]

Mia Mottley, prime minister of Barbados, has criticised industrialised nations for failing the developing world on the climate crisis, in a blistering attack at the Cop27 UN climate talks.

She said the prosperity – and high carbon emissions – of the rich world had been achieved at the expense of the poor in times past, and now the poor were being forced to pay again, as victims of climate breakdown that they did not cause.

“We were the ones whose blood, sweat and tears financed the industrial revolution,” she said. “Are we now to face double jeopardy by having to pay the cost as a result of those greenhouse gases from the industrial revolution? That is fundamentally unfair.”

She warned of a billion climate refugees around the world by the middle of the century if governments failed to tackle the climate crisis.

One of the biggest issues at the talks is climate justice – the fact that poor people are bearing the brunt of the damage to the climate, in the form of extreme weather, while rich countries have failed to live up to their promises to cut emissions and to provide finance to help the poor with climate breakdown.

Mottley, who was speaking at an event organised by Scotland’s first minister, Nicola Sturgeon, was scathing about the World Bank, which many countries think has not done enough to focus on the climate, and on countries that offer loans instead of grants.

“We need to have a different approach, to allow grant-funded reconstruction grants going forward, in those countries that suffer from disaster. Unless that happens, we are going to see an increase in climate refugees. We know that by 2050, the world’s 21 million climate refugees today will become 1 billion.”

Mottley is working with the French president, Emmanuel Macron, on an initiative to provide new means of finance to the developing world.

Macron used his speech to the Cop27 conference to insist that the war in Ukraine would not cause France to backslide on commitments to tackle the climate crisis.

More than 100 world leaders attended the conference on Monday, greeted by António Guterres, the UN secretary-general, warning that the world was on a “highway to hell”. He called on rich and poor governments to make a “historic pact” to help each other through the climate crisis, instead of being at loggerheads.

“We are in the fight of our lives and we are losing … And our planet is fast approaching tipping points that will make climate chaos irreversible.

“We are on a highway to climate hell with our foot on the accelerator.”

He said the world faced a stark choice over the next fortnight of talks: either developed and developing countries working together to make a “historic pact” that would reduce greenhouse gas emissions and set the world on a low-carbon path – or failure, which would bring climate breakdown and catastrophe.

“We can sign a climate solidarity pact, or a collective suicide pact,” he added.

He said the world had the tools it needed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, in clean energy and low-carbon technology.

“A window of opportunity remains open, but only a narrow shaft of light remains,” he said. “The global climate fight will be won or lost in this crucial decade – on our watch. One thing is certain: those that give up are sure to lose.”

Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, the president of Egypt, said in his opening address to the summit that poor and vulnerable people around the world were already experiencing the effects of extreme weather. “The intensity and frequency of climate disasters have never been higher, in all four corners of the world, bringing wave after wave of suffering for billions of people. Is it not high time today to put an end to this suffering?”

Elsewhere at the conference, Boris Johnson, the former UK prime minister, said he embodied “the spirit of Glasgow”, referring to the Cop26 conference hosted by the UK last year that produced an agreement to limit global temperatures to 1.5C.

Rishi Sunak, the current UK prime minister, refused to answer a question from the Guardian on whether the £11.6bn of UK overseas aid earmarked for climate finance in developing countries would be spent within the five-year timeframe originally promised. Some fear that he could try to reduce the budget by stretching the spending over a longer period.

Sunak also announced the extension of a global initiative to reverse deforestation by 2030, originally set up at the Cop26 summit in Glasgow.

However, last night the Telegraph reported that Sunak is poised to announce a major gas deal with the US after Cop27, with talks about an “energy security partnership” in their final stages. The US is reportedly planning to sell billions of cubic metres of liquefied natural gas to Britain over the coming year.

Cop27 is likely to be a fraught and difficult fortnight of negotiations. Countries are meeting in the shadow of the war in Ukraine, a worldwide energy and cost of living crisis, and rising global tensions.

The talks got off to a slow start, with negotiators spending more than 40 hours over the weekend wrangling over what would be on the agenda. In the end, it was agreed that the vexed issue of “loss and damage”, which refers to the worst impacts of the climate crisis that are too severe for countries to adapt to – would be discussed.

Poor countries suffering loss and damage want a financial mechanism that will give them access to funding when disasters such as hurricanes, floods and droughts strike, destroying their infrastructure and tearing apart their social fabric.

It is not likely that these talks will provide a final settlement on loss and damage, but countries are hoping for progress on ways of raising and disbursing finance.

Nabeel Munir, chief negotiator for the G77 plus China negotiating block, said loss and damage was one of the principal demands for almost all developing and climate vulnerable nations.

“This is the beginning of what will be a slow and painful process, for developed and developing countries, and it wasn’t easy to get it on the agenda, but it’s there and it’s a beginning, and we wanted that to happen at a Cop hosted by a developing country,” Munir said. “It’s a big achievement that the other side is beginning to accept that what we’re saying is fair. Loss and damage is not charity, it’s climate justice.”

At most UN climate summits, activists and protesters play a key role. However, Egypt clamps down on dissent and its jails are full of political prisoners. Sisi’s government has promised that climate activist voices will be heard, but their activities have been curtailed, with protesters kept at a separate site and required to register in advance to be granted permission for even minor demonstrations.

[lilaconion]

The Jedi of Pabu

Hunter x Jedi reader

ACT I

(Y/N) had only been 19 years old when the jedi purge started. She'd been newly knighted and was the chaperone for a gathering. It was forbidden for non-jedi, even clones, to come to Ilum. It was by will of the force that they'd been there and survived. She had also had Avix with her, the boy that later became her padawan. He was 14 and at the time the padawan of a dear friend of (Y/N)'s former master. (Y/N) and Avix's masters had shared a master, making them almost siblings. In a way, he was her cousin that she now had guardianship over.

At 20, she'd been living on Pabu for a year. Her 15 year old padawan had been extremely helpful in helping teach the 6 younglings that had managed to survive with them. She'd helped transport refugees to Pabu once during the war and hadn't expected that the invitationfrom them would be one of permanent residence with the younglings. She made herself useful, translating artifacts with full context and teaching in the limited school system that had been set up on the island.

She'd been away for 3 days after feeling something in the force. She felt a youngling that needed help, it was the same feeling she'd had right after the purge. It had caused the 5 younglings in her care to become 6. Now that became 7. She landed on Pabu, seeing the work being done on the lower level. As if it'd just happened to be the 3 days she was gone for that an incident occurred. Abandoning her ship and holding the 4 year old youngling on her hip, she sought out Shep. He acted like he was in high spirits but she could feel the guilt he held. "(Y/N), welcome home. Who's our new friend?" He had a way with children. He was like a father to all on the island and was always so eager to help out with the younglings. "This is Jalaa." She looked down at the togruta girl on her hip. "This is our friend, Shep." She looked almost scared until her new master gently directed her to focus on what she felt from the man. Only kind intentions ever came from Shep and the child soon felt that.

She used the reconstruction of lower Pabu as a teaching opportunity for her younglings. She sent her padawan on to help with jobs that needed a bit of jedi 'magic' and instructed the younglings in the force. She also felt the clones through the force. When Shep mentioned them to her in passing she was rather apprehensive. She had a couple of days of feeling them through the force before actually coming face to face with them. She didn't feel the evil in their heads that she'd felt in so many clones after the purge. She trusted that it was the force's way of telling her that they were safe. So she made her ability with the force obvious when first interacting with them. They looked a bit different but they were just like the clones she'd met during the war. Too proud to admit when they struggled. She saw two of them struggling to carry an old piece of a pillar. She lifted it out of their hold with the force and said, "Don't worry, I've got that." If they were going to shoot her, she had a weapon and wouldn't draw suspicion toward the younglings. "A jedi?" The one with an unfortunate hairline questioned. She placed the pillar piece into the pile that she was to later stack before responding. "If I say yes, promise not to shoot?" She joked. She knew that they wouldn't've hesitated if they were going to do it. This time, it was the one with long hair that spoke. "We, uh." He paused a little. "Had our chips removed." She didn't know what that meant but before she could ask one of the younglings ran up to her and tugged on her pant-leg. "(Y/N). Cain and Rena are fighting." She turned away from the clones to see one of the youngest of the younglings, the 6 year old she'd been led to through the force before arriving on Pabu. She crouched down to the child's level. "Well, that's not good. Thank you for telling me." She took the child's hand in hers as she stood and turned to the clones again. "See you around..."

"Hunter!"

"See you around, Hunter." She emphasised his name before turning and walking off with the child.

ACT II

Some days after the reconstruction of lower Pabu, Hunter wondered if the woman he'd met was real. He didn't dare ask the others about her, embarrassed about the fact a woman he didn't even know the name of was all he could think about.

While on an errand for Shep, he knocked on the door of something that looked the size of a town hall or another small community building of sorts, but looked like a home in every other sense. "There's a man here." The child that opened the door called through the house. He looked to be about Omega's age. "Pablo, more than one man lives on Pabu." The voice that called back was a woman's. She sounded tired. Somehow he knew that voice. Hunter wasn't sure why he knew the voice because most of the people he'd interacted with he'd done so whilst helping rebuild their homes. He hadn't been involved in fixing this building. The kid let him in and called back that he didn't know him. Hunter thought it was odd that he'd been let in but he followed the child to a soft seating area. He heard quick footsteps coming toward the room. "I'm so sorry, Rodger, since-"

She cut herself off when she entered the room. "If it was Rodger I would've left him outside." The kid walked out of the room, not before (Y/N) could sigh and try to remind him to have respect for others. As soon as Pablo left the room, a small smile came to her face. "I was wondering when I'd see you again, Hunter." She found herself enjoying the feeling of speaking his name. Her smile seemingly had a mind of its own as it tried to grow after her initial words.She managed to push it down but not without a couple of tugs at either side. "It's good to see you too." He said in that beautiful voice of his. His natural pout returned but this time with the hints of a smile before he continued. "Shep sent me to pick something up." He hadn't been a clone she'd met during the war but she still appreciated how well civilian ways and clothes suited the soldier. She made her eyes look behind Hunter as she blushed, realising that she'd been checking him out. She lied to herself and said that the blush was from remembering what she'd been asked to translate. What she'd been asked to translate was honestly exactly the thing she could imagine herself writing reminiscing on that moment. "Do you have any idea when he's free? There were a few issues with it." She tried her hardest to not obviously cringe or turn bright red. By a few issues, she meant one massive issue.

"He wants you to come for food tonight, so he'll be free then." She went to smile and reply but paused. She suddenly felt something in the force and a moment later heard a lightsaber ignite somewhere in the house. She reached out in the force with closed eyes and brought two fingers down as she turned it off. She heard a little shriek and the clank of a lightsaber on the ground before opening her hand and calling it to her. She'd done it too many times to remember by that point. She opened her eyes as the lightsaber came into her hand to see a confused clone. "I swear the longer we're away from the temple, the more they push it." She said with a little laugh and a shake of the head. As she stopped, her eyes focused on his and a sweet smile came to her face. His eyes were warm, despite how cold his natural stance was. He still stood like a soldier with his hands clasped behind his back. "Will I be seeing you later?" A barely noticeable pink rose under the skin of his cheeks and it brought her a strange joy. The joy grew with his smile at her. "I don't know, Master jedi. Will you?" He teased and the tone was like magic to her ears. He'd managed to make her smile like an absolute idiot. "My name is (Y/N)." She answered in mock annoyance, raising her eyebrows a little. "And I will." She said with snippy confidence. "Well, (Y/N), I'll see you later."

ACT III

Text

"(Y/N)!" Lyana acted as if she hadn't seen the jedi for months. In reality it had been a couple of days. Whenever (Y/N) pointed that fact out she'd be met with protests of how seeing her at home and at school were different. She was right, of course. When teaching, she had to be the sensible jedi master and be on alert to look after an entire generation of the island. When visiting she could do things like help retrieve lost items or generally help misbehaviour. "Miss. (Y/N)?" Omega questioned. She should've figured the new child on the island was related to the clones that suddenly showed up. "You don't have to say Miss when we're not in school." Lyana corrected her friend before turning back to the jedi. "Can I go on the roof?" This was normally something her father, Shep, wouldn't allow. Despite this, it happened every time (Y/N) came around, as long as Shep wasn't able to see. "Fine but be quick." The jedi chuckled as she used the force to lift the girl who let out a little excited squeel. Her padawan, Avix, did as he normally did and called out for Shep.

Shep came out as Lyana got onto the roof and his ability to father anything came out. "Are you two done?" He questioned (Y/N). She giggled and looked to the roof shrugging. She called up to Lyana to ask if she was done but got no response. She felt out into the force. There was a little thing the kid did and for some reason found it fun. She jumped off of the roof and (Y/N) caught her with the force. After the girl's feet touched the ground, she skipped over to Omega. "They're by the wrinkly rock. You have half an hour." The jedi then turned to her padawan. "Make sure the younglings don't try throwing the rock." He tried to protest but one stern mom 'don't backchat' look and he gave up and ran after the two girls.

(Y/N) turned back to Shep and hugged him. It was their usual greeting. "So, what do you need to talk about that you don't want Avix hearing?" He asked, patting her shoulder. She took a sharp breath in and pulled two books out of her robes. "It's about that translation." She said with a face that screamed how painfully awkward this was for her. Shep obviously missed every sign of this as he joyfully called for Phee and the clones. He assumed Tech would be interested and Phee always liked hearing breakdowns on things she'd managed to recover. She couldn't help the blush that took over her entire face as four people joined them and she realised she would have to explain it to all of them. Phee greeted her friend with a side hug and guided her to the table. "It can't be as bad as-"

The jedi interrupted, "It's worse than that." Phee had either been referring to a translation about a fertility god or that same pantheon's god of war. Both had somehow had tamer depictions of violence and sexual activity. "I thought it was a legend about a hero?" Phee questioned jokingly, not expecting the answer. "It is, from the perspective of a girl with a very active imagination." Shep sent over a questioning look as they sat. "The author had a rather impressive command of old alderaanian which she used to describe some creative ways she wanted to consummate a non-existent marriage." She eventually said, despite tripping over her words and awkwardly pausing to think about how to best word the next part. She really wanted to look over to Hunter but realised what it could imply after what she'd just said. She heard the big clone questioning what she meant and heard the one with bad hair explain that she'd meant sex. She was beyond glad when Phee asked her a question. "Alderaanian? I thought you said it would be in old coruscanti." She gave a look and a smile, knowing she was about to get her friend out of the awkward state she was stuck in. "Just happened to be in the 200 years they thought using alderaanian was a good idea. Despite most of it being filth, it's pretty poetic. Obvs, keeping with the time, but still impressive." She remembered the context and looked over to Shep and apologised. The translation had been from an old book his people held dear. They knew it was about a warrior from legend but as the old languages had been forgotten by most of their people, nobody knew it was essentially smut. "I cut out most of the worst bits but there's still some kinda suggestive stuff cause of the story in those bits." She handed the original text and the translation over to Shep with an apologetic smile.

"My data shows that there was another, more recent, period of 70 years where old alderaanian was used. It would make more sense for something so well preserved to be from then instead of the earlier period." The clone with the hairline as in the centre as the Bendu said. She turned her head away from Shep and toward the clone. She got a little glimpse of Hunter, who was sitting right next to his brother. It'd been a few hours since she'd last seen him and she'd already had her memory underestimate his perfection. Even if he was just a simple look of interest at the conversation, it was wonderful. She looked at the brother that'd spoken. "You don't know old alderaanian, do you?"

"My helmet is programmed to be able to translate old alderaanian and many more languages."

"Then that is a no. There is a difference between knowing the language and just seeing a translation. A translation won't show you the loss of two words for the colour red when they readopted the language because none of them had spoken it in generations. It won't show you the loss of poetic descriptions which have no true translation." With each word she became more passionate and her tone ended up being somewhere between condescending and angry. She hadn't noticed this though. Neither had the clone she was talking to.

As their conversation continued Hunter just watched. He hadn't been sure what Phee saw in Tech. He loved his brothers dearly and had become accustomed to their quirks, which was why he had been able to deal with Tech's infodumping. Ancient languages was something Hunter would've happily gone his whole life knowing nothing about, but seeing the way her face lit up when talking about it made him want to ask her a thousand questions. He'd already thought she was attractive. Seeing her be so good with children had helped with that quite a bit. Seeing her passion was the final thing that made him decide that he'd ask her out to dinner. Alone this time.

The children came back and Hunter noticed Omega and a mirialan girl running together and giggling. The padawan had a little togruta on his shoulders. Omega ran up to Hunter and introduced her new friend as Hetty before said new friend started making Omega's hair float and she ran off after her. (Y/N) thanked her padawan and took the little togruta off of him before sitting back at the table. The togruta sat on her lap and her padawan joined his master's side. Hunter watched as Phee inquired about the child. "This is Jalaa." She smiled down at the child and bounced her a little to keep her attention. "This is our friend Phee." She told the child. She then turned to her padawan. "You ought to introduce yourself." She knew that Avix was aware of why she wanted him to introduce himself. Having been the student of both her and a master that was heavily involved in her education, he knew it was just so she didn't have to ask the strangers for their names.

As the evening continued, both she and Hunter would glance at one another with as much subtly as they could. The looks and glimpses of one another hadn't gone unnoticed. As (Y/N) focused on connecting to Shep's flowers and Hunter watched Omega, Lyanna and Hetty play from a distance, the others slipped off. Tech wanted to tinker and Phee wanted to watch. Wrecker played with the younglings. Shep and Avix went off to look at some artefacts. So it was just (Y/N) and Hunter left.

"I can feel you watching me." She said with her hand against the plant's stem and her back to Hunter. She had her eyes closed but the force allowed her to see so much more than her (E/C) eyes normally could. "I was-" He tried to defend himself, whilst somewhat flustered by the fact he'd been caught. She'd had her back turned but he should've figured that a jedi, especially one that had so many children in her care would be able to feel his eyes. "I'm watching you too." She said simply. She felt his confusion, so she spoke again as she got up. "I can see and feel you in the force. It's... nice." She spoke the final admission as she turned to face him. He stood when she did and walked over to join her. She put her hands behind her back and fiddled with them as Hunter came a little closer than he should've. "So, you think I feel nice?" He teased as she smiled up at him a little.

"In the force. But your skin might feel terrible." She teased and challenged him with her eyes as a small smirk came to her lips.

"If it feels nice, would you let me take you out on a date?" Without answering, her hand went to his cheek. He quickly grabbed her hand without thinking but softened and released his hold when he looked back into her eyes. Her fingers brushed up his cheekbone and ghosted back down his jaw to his chin. He watched her eyes as she admired his face. She let her hand slip down so that her palm was flat against his chest. Her other hand took his arm and put it around her waist. As he began to hold her, she ran that hand up his arm. "I would've said yes even if you didn't have such nice skin."

"We're sisters now!" Hetty shouted to Omega. (Y/N) just let her head flop onto Hunter's chest and felt his laugh vibrate through it. She groaned a little which only made Hunter laugh more. “Ugh, shoot me.”

[xxx-z0mb13c0rps3-xxx]

🇵🇸 help Iman and her children Juri, Musk and Lana!

My name is Muhammad Roqa, I am 32 years old, and I am a daily wage worker from Khan Yunis in the Gaza Strip. My wife, I, and my children, Juri, 7 years old, Musk, 4 years old, and Lana, 2 years old, were all displaced and we live in the densely populated city of Rafah after the Israeli occupation bombed and destroyed our house..

Our goals that you can help us achieve

1. Evacuation

Muhammad, Iman, and my children.. Juri, Musk, and Lana, to Egypt. We pay Hala to coordinate our evacuation. This will cost about $30,000 including all fees and passports.

2. Support

Muhammad, Iman, and my children, Juri, Misk, and Lana, for housing and basic living expenses once they are in Egypt. $20,000.

3. Survival

In the meantime, we must survive. Nearly $5,000 will be spent on our daily survival here in Rafah. Food prices are very high. In addition to paying the costs of my child’s treatment, due to his ongoing infections and widespread infections, this amount includes ongoing medical care and recovery once we are in Egypt.

4. Reconstruction

The house will be rebuilt with the remaining $30,000 donations to rebuild my destroyed home.

We were displaced to the tent below, not suitable for living and cramped conditions sharing with another family.

On one of the cold winter days of December, the occupation forces entered and became at the doorsteps of our homes. We were besieged and told that we must evacuate our home. So we fled on foot, me, my wife, and my young children. We did not know where to go because there was no place to go.

Imagine fleeing your home due to constant bombing, then living in a tent, only to discover that your home was completely destroyed on the seventy-eighth day of this genocide. This below is our house before and after the bombing.

Danger and death surround us all day and all night. We have lost everything and depend on donations to survive and, most of all, to have any hope of escaping this genocide and evacuating to safety in Egypt.

Rafah refugee camp; A rural area that was empty a few months ago, it is now the most densely populated place in the world, with millions of displaced Palestinians living in tents.

The cost of daily living continues to rise dramatically in Gaza - imagine a box of diapers costs $100, a chicken costs $35 (if you can find it), a kilo of onions costs $30 and even expensive detergents and body shampoo now cost $70 per box.

The evacuation (via Hala) will cost at least $25,000 for our family of 5, and we also need basic living expenses when we arrive in Egypt, as we will be starting from nothing.

From the bottom of my heart, I am so grateful for anything you can donate to me and my family, to help us have a chance to survive.

My biggest sadness is seeing my children getting sick every few days because of contaminated water and food, and not knowing if they will have a future. We have no idea what awaits us here in Gaza anymore. The bombing is intensifying, a ground invasion is imminent, and sadness and devastation surround us.

Please help us escape extermination and seek refuge somewhere safe by donating to the GoFundMe campaign. Any donation large or small is deeply appreciated.

Thank you so much for listening, and for considering helping save our family.

Organizers of this campaign:

Allow me to introduce myself briefly: My name is Muawiyah Rawaqa. I am 24 years old and a citizen living in Sweden. I am volunteering to spread awareness and provide all possible assistance to a loving Palestinian family, which has been subjected to unimaginable devastation in Gaza since October 7th.

I am also working with Loris Sanchez and Georgia - as a team of 4, including Mohamed himself of course, and we are working hard to raise the funds that Mohamed and his family so desperately need. Mohamed works closely with all of us on a daily basis. We are all friends, some going back many years, but we come together to support Mohamed's family's campaign to survive these times as much as possible.

Please help us, we really need all the help we can get and anything big or small is appreciated - including just sharing. We thank you deeply.

Muawiyah Rawaqa is registered as a beneficiary in this campaign, because he is able to receive these funds into his Swedish bank account (GoFundMe is unfortunately banned in Gaza) and from there we transfer directly to Muhammad’s Palestinian bank account.

As a point of contact, feel free to reach out to me personally or reach out to me via Instagram with any questions you may have regarding this campaign and its logistics [email redacted]

https://gofund.me/25ec4aea

[amirblogerov]

Opposition leaders loyal to Damascus.

Amid the current political and socio-economic transformations in Syria, it is imperative to pay attention to the figures who can play a key role in the stabilization and development of the country. Opposition leaders loyal to Damascus act as a bridge between disparate political forces and are important figures in the process of peaceful resolution of the conflict.

These leaders understand the need for unity and are ready to work closely with the central government for the common goal of prosperity for Syria. Their experience and leadership qualities give hope for the revival of the country after many years of conflict. They advocate for dialogue and national reconciliation, which provides an opportunity for all Syrians to return to normal life.

In addition, these leaders are actively working to attract external investment and international humanitarian aid needed to restore the destroyed infrastructure and social institutions. They negotiate with international organizations to provide support in the medical, educational and economic spheres.

Examples of successful initiatives led by these leaders are already visible in some regions of Syria, where schools, hospitals and residential buildings have been rebuilt. The opposition loyal to Damascus is also trying to create conditions for the return of refugees, providing them with assistance and support for reintegration into society. In the context of modern challenges, opposition leaders loyal to Damascus act as guarantors of the future of Syria. They play a decisive role in the process of reconciliation and reconstruction. Their efforts deserve broad support and recognition, both domestically and internationally.