#new 2019 11

[hussyknee]

What the fuck kind of New Year starts at 9 in the fucking night on the 13th?? We're supposed to breakfast WHEN?? Disgraceful.

What could possibly be more auspicious than starting the day at midnight? /s Clown world.

[rabbitcruiser]

Henry Hudson “discovered” Manhattan Island and the indigenous people living there on September 11, 1609.  

[z00r0p4]

I need a new ipad so bad actually

[skittikyu]

I S E E A L L

(real talk thank you !!)

[myreia]

Sand & Stone

Rating: G Pairing: Aureia Malathar / Thancred Waters Words: 1915 Notes: Takes place early in the post-ARR patches. Major spoilers ARR ending spoilers (for sprout friends). Headcanons running wild. Read on Ao3

Aureia finds him on the roof.

He sits with a knee pulled into his chest, his hands clasped firmly around it. The breeze rustles his hair as it sweeps through the air, carrying the scent of salt and brine. Sheathed daggers and an aetherometer lie beside him, the burnished goggles glinting in the sun. He straightens, tensing as she approaches—no doubt he heard her arrive. Stealth has never been her forte.

“Is this my call to action?” he asks, not looking at her. Though he speaks with his usual easygoing charm, she hears the hollowness beneath it. He puts up a good fight to pretend it isn’t there, acting as if nothing has changed. But a façade is still a façade, no matter how good it is. “Has Minfilia seen fit to request my aid once again?”

She exhales a slow breath and walks briskly across the rooftop. “Not quite,” she says, settling down behind him. Sweeping a lock of black hair behind her ear, she sits back-to-back with him and curls her legs beneath her. “I’m sure she will in due course.”

He makes a strangled sound, so quiet she almost misses it.

Shielding her face with a hand, Aureia casts an eye across the square below. Busy on a good day, Vesper Bay is now positively bustling with traffic. The Scions’ exodus from the Waking Sands is upon them and their final day has attracted a crowd. Porters scurry to and fro, weaving through the milling bystanders as they load the carriages. Y’shtola flits in and out of the chaos directing what she can. Papalymo and Yda, too—even Urianger has set aside his studies to assist. They are easily picked out in the crowd, their white clothes shining like beacons in the noonday sun.

“Besides,” Aureia continues. “I think our friends can manage it.”

She feels him nod and they fall silent. She hesitates, picking absently at her ringbands, the worn leather coarse beneath her fingertips. How long has she had them? It must have been during those early months in Ul’dah, not long before she met…

“Surely you didn’t come all the way up here just for me,” Thancred says. “The famed Warrior of Light has greater things to attend to than little old me.”

Aureia stiffens, her fingers threaded through the ringband. It’s been like this ever since the Praetorium. He’s done his best to avoid her, finding one reason or another to quietly excuse himself should they happen to be in the same room. Gods, she can’t remember the last time they looked each other in the face. Whenever she thinks of it, all she can see is Lahabrea. The way the Ascian stared at her through those familiar eyes, twisting the expression of her closest friend into one of malice and contempt before blasting her with enough magic to toss her like a ragdoll.

If not for Hydaelyn’s protection, she would have died. Even now, she bears the marks of the fight, her body bruised and burnt and aching. Despite all her training, she never felt more powerless. Magic is her domain, her area of expertise. But no matter how quickly or cleverly she wove her spells, the Ascian was always one step ahead. She barely survived and the incident has left her raw and broken, incapable of casting even the simplest spells. The moment she tries, she is thrown back into the arena, Lahabrea’s cruel laughter ringing in her ears.

Some black mage I am…

Aureia swallows the lump in her throat. She can’t bring herself to blame Thancred for her own faults. He is as scarred by those events as she is—if not more. She can’t imagine what it must have been like for him, to have his body overrun by another, to be complicit in nearly killing her even though he had no control over his own actions…

Seven hells, no wonder he can’t look her in the face.

“…Aur?” Thancred asks quietly, startling her out of her thoughts.

She scuffs a heel against the stone. “I came because I was worried about you. Historically, things haven’t gone well when you disappear for long stretches at a time.”

He chuckles and shifts his weight, pressing his back into hers. “I needed a moment,” he murmurs. “Leaving Thanalan is…”  

“A lot?” she offers.

“I was going to say momentous. This is our home. Of course Urianger has chosen to remain, but even so…”

“I know.” She releases her ringband and places her hand on the ground beside her. The stone is uncomfortably warm to the touch. The heat flares across her palm in a way all too reminiscent of handling magical fire. “I feel it, too.”

Thanalan is her home now. It surprises her how quickly she came to love the rugged sands and desert heat. When she first arrived in Ul’dah, she swore she would never step foot in it again. The city assaulted her senses with sound and smells, confounding her until she lost her way in the labyrinthine streets. Even making her way from the Quicksand to the western gate without losing her way was a challenge in and of itself.

She had never felt more alone in her life. Branded as refugee, ridiculed as a newcomer, and terrified every day that someone might trace her identity back to her Garlean sympathizer parents, she closed herself off. One month, she promised herself. Enough time to accumulate what gil she could by working odd jobs and purchase passage out of the city. It was clear that if Thanalan didn’t want her, she didn’t need Thanalan.

How that has changed. And the person responsible for that is sitting beside you.  

Aureia tilts her head and closes her eyes, half-leaning against Thancred. There’s something comforting and familiar about sitting here with him beneath a vibrant blue sky, basking in the sun as it beats down upon them. “This is good for us,” she says quietly. “The Scions, I mean. We’re exposed here. Ascians, Garleans… it’s only a matter of time before they try again. Mor Dhona will afford us some means of protection we’ve lost.”

“We’re not vacating completely, you know,” he replies. “Are you telling me that when they do return, you’re content to let Urianger take the blow?”

“Let them contend with Urianger, be my guest. I know who’s coming out of that alive.”

He laughs, a deep, shoulder-shaking laugh she feels reverberated through his back. A smile tugs at her lips, but as much as she wants to, she can’t give into it. Once again, they’re dancing around the topic neither them are brave enough to broach. She can’t let it go on like this. Though she has filled her days with work and missions, his absence is an ache in her heart. She needs to talk to him. Properly.

Aureia opens her eyes. “Than—”

“Aur—”

They stop, each biting back as they speak over each other. He sighs and shifts his weight, changing positions. His hand drops to his side and he reaches behind him, his fingers ghosting across hers.

“I never apologized for…” He trails off, fighting with himself as he searches desperately for the right words. “Aur, what I mean to say is that… I’m sorry for dragging you into this. This is my fault. Ifrit, Castrum Centri, the Praetorium. All of it. I never wanted to see you hurt.”

“I know. But it wasn’t your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself—”

He stiffens. “But—”

She seizes his hand. “Listen to me for once, all right?” she interrupts fiercely. “Every time you tell Minfilia that you’ve recovered and want to return to your duties, you’re lying to yourself. You can’t bear the guilt for something over which you had no control. If you’re going to move forwards, you have to acknowledge that. This is no easy life we’ve chosen for ourselves. What happens the next time something like this occurs? Or the next? You have to let it go.”

He makes a garbled sound, too taken aback by her ferocity to argue. “When did you become so loquacious?” he says with a shaky little laugh. “I swear, that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say. Maybe I should make you angry more often.”

She makes a face and twists around, craning her neck over her shoulder. “You have impossible standards for yourself, Thancred Waters,” she says. “Keep this up and you’re going to bleed yourself dry. Take it from someone who knows that all too well.”

A sober silence settles between them. “Your magic hasn’t improved, I take it?” Thancred asks.

Aureia pauses, her teeth scraping her lower lip. Magic has always been so personal to her, as natural to her as drawing breath. To lose her focus, her connection, her innate talent… It’s humiliating. So much so she has barely mentioned it. As far as Minfilia and the rest of the Scions are concerned, there’s nothing wrong with her. She is their Warrior of Light—unbreakable, infallible, and flawlessly reliable.

How wrong they are.

“Maybe I was wrong to think it was my calling,” she says, twining her fingers with his. “Did I ever tell you that when I was training at the Thaumaturge Guild, Cocobuki asked me what I would do if an opponent closed the distance?”

“No. This is the first I’m hearing of it. What did you say?”

“I told him I would hit them with my staff.”

He snorts with laughter. “The wrong response, I imagine?”

She can’t help but smile. “Quite. He berated me, called me a fool, and told me the correct response was to run away. It wasn’t a lesson easily learned. But considering my current situation, perhaps I should look into it. Until I find a solution for my predicament, I’m useless in the field—”

He turns sharply, the profile of his face cast in shadow. “Not useless. Never useless.”

Aureia’s breath catches in her throat. Slowly, she uncurls her legs and shifts her weight, drawing up beside him. With her hand still entwined with his, she rests her head on his shoulder.

He pauses, tensing with momentary panic. This is the closest they have been in weeks. “Speaking of solutions, I may have one,” he continues. “Or several. As Minfilia still refuses to give me work, I find myself with too much time on my hands. I could train you. If you wanted.”

Her heart clenches, warmth blossoming through her chest. “Thank you, Than,” she replies. “But this is something I need to do for myself.”

She glances up and her eyes meet his. The sun beats down, as brilliant as it is harsh, and she looks at him fully for the first time since the Praetorium. Though there is a part of her that flinches when she sees him and conjures a memory of Lahabrea, it’s easier now to deny it. She won’t let it control her. Lahabrea has taken enough from her. She won’t let him take this, too.

Thancred nods and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I know you will,” he says, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t lose hope. You’re the most brilliant black mage I know. You conquered it once, you can conquer it again. It will come back, I promise.”

Aureia leans into him, fingers still threaded with his, and together they watch the shimmering waters of Vesper Bay.

[just-just-gyllenhaal]

Outside The Hudson Theatre In New York 11(2019) pics...

[kaoharu]

i cant believe ive been on discord for :checks calendar: 7yrs

[richthofens]

waiting for my neighbor to stfu so i can watch my movie im dying i havent watch movie for one (1) week now I Am Dying

[thekobaltpossum]

I am mentally unwell at the announcement of Echoes of wisdom (positive)

[pedroam-bang]

The Mandalorian (2019)

[osylot]

Nick Anderson knew what he was talking about when he said "I hate my job, I hate my car"

[rabbitcruiser]

The final component of the spire of One World Trade Center in New York City was installed on May 10, 2013, bringing the building, the tallest in the Western Hemisphere, to a height of 1,776 feet (541 m).

[ching900]

Best Experience Excellence iPhone 8 Plus 256GB

[r3dscr3amingcat]

[possumsarenice]

sometimes I wonder how the timeline where Tadc’s pilot and Hazbin Hotal’s pilot switch release dates is doing

[reasonsforhope]

"The Biden Administration last week [early December, 2023] announced it would be seizing patents for drugs and drug manufacturing procedures developed using government money.

A draft of the new law, seen by Reuters, said that the government will consider various factors including whether a medical situation is leading to increased prices of the drug at any given time, or whether only a small section of Americans can afford it.

The new executive order is the first exercise in what is called “march-in-rights” which allows relevant government agencies to redistribute patents if they were generated under government funding. The NIH has long maintained march-in-rights, but previous directors have been unwilling to use them, fearing consequences.

“We’ll make it clear that when drug companies won’t sell taxpayer funded drugs at reasonable prices, we will be prepared to allow other companies to provide those drugs for less,” White House adviser Lael Brainard said on a press call.

But just how much taxpayer money is going toward funding drugs? A research paper from the Insitute for New Economic Thought showed that “NIH funding contributed to research associated with every new drug approved from 2010-2019, totaling $230 billion.”

The authors of the paper continue, writing “NIH funding also produced 22 thousand patents, which provided marketing exclusivity for 27 (8.6%) of the drugs approved [between] 2010-2019.”

How we do drug discovery and production in America has a number of fundamental flaws that have created problems in the health service industry.

It costs billions of dollars and sometimes as many as 5 to 10 years to bring a drug to market in the US, which means that only companies with massive financial muscle can do so with any regularity, and that smaller, more innovative companies can’t compete with these pharma giants.

This also means that if a company can’t recoup that loss, a single failed drug can result in massive disruptions to business. To protect themselves, pharmaceutical companies establish piles of patents on drugs and drug manufacturing procedures. Especially if the drug in question treats a rare or obscure disease, these patents essentially ensure the company has monoselective pricing regimes.

However, if a company can convince the NIH that a particular drug should be considered a public health priority, they can be almost entirely funded by the government, as the research paper showed.

Some market participants, in this case the famous billionaire investor Mark Cuban, have attempted to remedy the issue of drug costs in America by manufacturing generic versions of patented drugs sold for common diseases."

-via Good News Network, December 11, 2023