#oc: eneas

[cassynite]

Doin a big giant sketch dump post of warmup headshots ive done of other people's ocs since the beginning of the year!

@arendaes' Ariadne, 2. @dujour13's Siavesh, 3. @amatres' Layla, 4. @dmagedgoods' Eneas, 5. @spyridonya's Kadira, 6. @thesolemnhour's Agria, 6. @silversiren1101's Minovae, and 7. @tenmillionbees' Aen!

[dmagedgoods]

Finally done with something I worked on forever.

My OCs Eneas and Cian performing a song together that connects them: Little White Lies.

[dujour13]

OC Kiss Week - day 7

The last one goes to my friend @dmagedgoods, because Siavash and I are utterly captivated by your Eneas. (all according to his plan I’m sure) 💜

(sorry this one's long, 2121 words)

“The Count seduced her dad?” Bluebrook’s red face is alight with hilarity.

“He said, ‘They think they want me marrying into their family? I’m just giving them a taste of what that would entail.’” Siavash imitates an exaggerated posh Mendevian accent and dissolves into laughter with his compatriots.

Eneas can’t help but chuckle.

In the Fleet Bridge Inn the Andoren bankers have become uproarious. It’s remarkable, Eneas thinks, how much volume a halfling’s lungs can produce under the influence of a few drinks and a fine storyteller or two.

In the midst of it Eneas smiles, places a story or a joke here and there, is attentive to his patron, but his whole attention has been stolen by their new friend, the guitarist who lounges at his side and laughs along with the wine-drunk halflings though he’s barely on his second glass, more tipsy with their joy and Eneas’ stories than with wine.

It is true he is charmed. He can barely drag his eyes away from the burnished-gold hair, twinkling hazel eyes and radiant smile; but he must remain concentrated on the situation at hand.

Eneas has been treading a razor-thin line with Gladstone, his patron’s secretary, wary of making him jealous of how quickly Eneas has been taken into the banker’s confidence. He has been cautious to defer to Gladstone and praise him often in front of Bluebrook, who takes his secretary’s long-suffering loyalty blithely for granted.

Like at this moment, when the tipsy secretary offers a loud toast to his boss and is silenced like a yapping dog. Poor Gladstone, thinks Eneas. How far can his loyalty be stretched before it breaks? And when it breaks, what magnificent drama will ensue?

Because he alone knows the whole story: that Gladstone secretly holds the only copy of the will that Bluebrook burned to ash in his fireplace decades ago—the will in which his mother left her fortune to be equally distributed to the family, rather than to be placed in his able banker’s hands alone.

With a word Gladstone could ruin Bluebrook, lay bare his dishonesty and take away his fortune and his family, the only two things the halfling appears to value in this life.

It is a highly intriguing situation for Eneas to find himself in the middle of.

The slightest tug on the strings could bring everything crashing down around Bluebrook. What whispers would it take to put the knife in his hand? Would Gladstone even fight back? Would they take one another out in a frenzy of violence or in a weave of diabolical plots?

But having silenced Gladstone, Bluebrook is summoning his new counsellor.

“We’ve exhausted our guitarist,” says the halfling banker with a jovial wink at Siavash, whom he has adopted since he joined their table earlier this evening. “Time for some violin! And more of that wine!”

With a gracious bow Eneas agrees, and stands at the foot of the table with his violin while Siavash and the halfling bankers hush one another.

He lays the warm wood against his cheek, poises his bow, breathes, and begins.

Each note is an ephemeral moment of aching beauty, like a lover’s last kiss.

It’s unsettling that he can sense how still and rapt the half-elf becomes at the sweet strains of his violin, as if the music connects the two of them and he can feel the faint vibrations of the man’s heart through it, and that thread that stretches between them tugs on something locked deep inside him and opens it, and suddenly old pain pours out and resonates in every stroke of his bow.

This Siavash, this Lark whose spirit is so light, whose presence is somehow so comforting, makes him momentarily forget himself.

Through his violin, he is weeping. For all that’s been torn away from him, and all he has torn away from himself; for being surrounded by people but forever alone, for traveling endless roads with no home to return to. His heart aches; a high, raw, keening note escapes his violin.

And in an instant he clamps down on it savagely, though no one suspects anything from his calm, smiling mask—or so he believes until he glances again at the half-elf.

The man’s eyes, locked on him, are full of grief.

He saw everything, Eneas realizes in shock.

When he is once again seated at the banker’s generous table alongside his new friend, Siavash is masking his own emotion as well. He is all smiles again.

“You’re good,” he congratulates as they clink glasses, but his eyes search Eneas’ as they drink.

They haven’t met for an hour and Eneas already feels a rare, prickling fear.

The contagious laugh. The soulful guitar. The way he has of listening with his heart, not just his ears. The relaxed grace of someone entirely at home in his skin and clothed in a bouquet of soft colors, which like his warm, familiar manner makes people smile.

Even as he thinks it, Eneas catches himself smiling.

A smile that is returned twofold, and not without a hint of an invitation, at which Eneas lets his eyes flick to Siavash’s open collar and the butterfly pendant that lays against his vibrant skin.

“Desnan?”

“Heart and soul. The stars have never steered me wrong.” There is no mistaking the meaning in his very direct, inviting look.

My friend, your luck may have run out, Eneas thinks, if you believe you wish to sail on my treacherous sea.

It would be so easy to let the idyll burn itself out in one torrid night. The slightest nod and in minutes they would be upstairs, and Eneas surprises himself with how clear and evocative the sweet images in his mind. Very tempting indeed.

So why not?

He wonders at his own hesitation. He tells himself this is a rare flower for his garden, one worth taking the time to cultivate. But does he also detect a twinge of fear in his heart, that once entwined about this source of heat it will be agony to tear his coils free?

He decides the intrigue is worth the danger, and besides it can’t last. An itinerant Desnan – if I don’t leave him, he will leave me.

* * *

It is time for the counsellors to withdraw. Their work here is done.

They close the veranda doors behind them and stand together looking out over the balmy night sea, pale lines of foam hypnotically rolling together and dissipating in a vast blackness of sea and sky beyond. Both are contemplating those obscure horizons: what comes next?

“I must congratulate you,” says Eneas eventually. His long, dark hair is loose around the luminous brown of his face, gold bangles on his horns and ears matching the brightness of his eyes.

“Thank you.” Siavash beams. Almost like he could take wing he grabs the balustrade and leans over it precariously, peering down into the garden below where lamps still burn, forgotten by the halfling family now gathered tearfully inside the villa. He doesn’t notice Eneas’ hand reach out to stabilize him and then quickly withdraw.

Moments earlier, under their gentle guidance the banker Bluebrook confessed the crime he’d been concealing from his family for decades and returned the money to its true inheritors, with interest. There was a risk his family would repudiate him, but it looks like at least a few are willing to forgive. Siavash is satisfied.

Ten days ago, lingering together under the stars on the Augustana quay, Eneas laid out the problem before his new friend, curious to see how Siavash would handle it.

“He does not know there is a second copy of the will. Should Gladstone choose to bring it to light, Bluebrook’s family will doubtless realize what he did, as the sole beneficiary of having burned the original. He will lose his family and his fortune, all he values. What lengths do you believe he would be willing to go to, to prevent that?”

Siavash searched his gaze for a moment and then said something that surprised Eneas at the time: “You’re not in it for the blackmail.” Not a question—a statement. “You’re just curious.”

“You’re insightful.” Eneas gave one nod and leaned closer. “And now I am even more curious to know what you would advise him.”

“What are you planning to advise him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Tell me first what you would do.”

“He needs a change in perspective,” Siavash said. “He’s always believed his worth in life can be measured in gold. If he could see his way to confessing and giving up his fortune, he might have a shot at reconciling with his family. Don’t get me wrong; honesty isn’t always the best policy, but in this case I think it is.”

“And how would you convince him of this?”

“Work backwards. Shift his perspective first, open his horizons to a different way of life, and then gradually let him discover the path that will lead him there.”

Thus the plan that he and Eneas agreed upon: to whisk the banker away on a little seaside holiday in a small, poor bungalow with none of his usual luxuries, close to a village of friendly halfling peasants where Bluebrook might begin to feel at home, and might begin to see his life in a new light.

The unspoken ulterior motive to that plan of course was that it meant Siavash and Eneas would have a chance to spend more time together.

They walked along the beach and swam in the Inner Sea, played music and an absurd Andoren ball game with the locals, and when on the sixth day Bluebrook announced that a good cheese sandwich on the beach with friends was better than any five-star meal he did not notice the triumphant look Siavash shot Eneas over the halfling’s head.

The plan bore fruit. Bluebrook made his confession, gave away his fortune, and Siavash and Eneas’ friendship burgeoned into something rich with potential, a potential that charges the air between them now on the veranda of the banker’s villa as they stand shoulder to shoulder, Siavash full of hope and Eneas full of dread.

Siavash nods to himself. “I’m glad it worked out for him. He’s not a bad guy. One panicked youthful mistake shouldn’t destroy someone’s whole life.”

Eneas contemplates the stars. “Yet it would have been such a glorious tragedy.”

“Tragedy is only beautiful on stage, not in real life. I can’t bear when people are separated.”

These words fall into a silence between them.

Eneas recoils, the slightest movement, but it betrays that he’s been stricken. His whole long life has been a tragedy of separation. He recovers with his usual grace, tilting his chin up to look sidelong at Siavash and smiling. “Did you know, I had a wager with myself that you would succeed.”

“You bet on me? Smart move.” Siavash laughs, the carefree sound cocooned by the washing of sea waves so that it is for Eneas alone. “What was at stake?”

There is a pause and when Siavash glances curiously at Eneas he witnesses the mask slipping. His mesmerizing golden eyes have misted over with the pain of a tremendous inner struggle. The effect steals Siavash’s breath. His heart forgets to beat.

There is hope after all.

“An indulgence,” says Eneas at last very quietly, lips trembling, agonized golden gaze locked on the night sea. “A respite. A suspension of my one absolute precept.” As he speaks he turns toward him and Siavash can almost feel it physically: the barrier between them crumbling and blowing away like sand.

Rarely in his life has Siavash felt this drawn to someone only to have his attentions rebuffed. By now he knows enough of Eneas’ past to know he’s had lovers of all kinds.

So why not me?

Why, each time he thinks he catches a glimpse of real warmth under the mask, does the mask spring up again, hiding true connection behind false charm, meeting Siavash’s spontaneous flirtations with practiced deflection? Is the harmony he feels between them—that he hears resonating in his bones when Eneas is near—only wishful thinking? Siavash wants desperately to reach over, gently pull the mask aside so that they’re truly face to face and let him know what has been tormenting him, filling his waking mind and his dreams and his heart and soul this past fortnight—

Whatever haunts you, let me set you free.

But the force of will that was holding back the magnetism of their bodies has been abolished. Both are powerless as it draws them together.

“My Lark,” Eneas whispers. “May I kiss—”

But Siavash is already there.

[suneiaaa]

Enea my new crosssss

[silverwolfdesign]

🡒 ✨ 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐚 & 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨 • 𝘉𝘦𝘯 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴 & 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥.

[s2pdoktopus]

I love my ocs to the bone I would choose to live forever just to not bring them to the grave with me but XD they aren't the happiest people. Or the kindest. I wish I could make kind characters... I want a character like Tatsuma 🫠

[murielkawaii]

bueno ya se estreno el preludio de pegaso parte de hakuren studios uwu y dibuje a sus 2 oc eneas (traje azul) y atrion (traje beige) me gustaron mucho sus personalidades uwu

[silversiren1101]

For asks - what do you think your OCs would be like in a modern (but still fantasy) setting??

In the early days of the WOTR madness setting in, a bunch of the mutuals created this unhinged Better Call Saul / Law and Order type procedural show idea and it sometimes reappears in my mind and I'm always reminded of just how nuts we all went in on it.

It had @dmagedgoods Eneas and @camelliagwerm Valerius as often at-odds lawyers and Mino was a private investigator who was like, always ready to throw hands with both of them because they protect the people she so desperate wants to convict. @turbulentpumpkin43 Ariadne was a crime scene forensic lab specialist and did a bunch of the labs for the cases. @bearvanhelsing Tyrel was a reoccurring white-collar business worker OR conman often protected by Valerius lmao, and @outeremissary Balthazar was an internet flame-troll and chaotic instigator that stirred up media storms and made things even worse for PR. Salvadore was there too and he was some up and coming senator, and Leonelle as well with a PR company but she got caught up in a scandal herself. My own Morolai was present on the side as the queen of her own lucrative fashion company, like if Giselle owned LV or whatever the biggest fashion company in the world is these days idk.

It was nuts and very chaotic in chat that morning and I'm trying to remember best I can, lmao.

The specific season finale we came up with was @bearvanhelsing 's Adelaide was under charges for poisoning an entire town's water supply (environmental terrorism) when really it's the result of some evil fracking company. It had @turbulentpumpkin43's Vesper who runs an eco-group supporting Adelaide's claims and trying to defend her, and Ariadne was doing the water sampling tests. It was big and dramatic because it was a TEAM-UP case, Mino and Eneas and Valerius forced to work together to get Adelaide declared innocent and find the real villains. The mafia was involved and I think Sal was like, in a gun fight with them. Balthazar had to be tracked down for information that could be used in the case too.

I am most definitely misremembered SOME things but that was pretty much the story.

SO YEAH, what would Mino be in a modern fantasy setting? Private investigator, easy.

Morolai would be queen of a fashion empire.

[maochira]

there he is. there comes the boy

(made with this picrew)

his name is enea drago. (his parents were just a little bit fixated with greek mythology). he is drago n.5's big twin brother. is the ubers team captain. he is a right back. his teammates trust him very much. he is very intelligent and has a backup plan for almost everything. he scored one goal against pxg. he wants to fucking tear down snuffy and barou system. he loves carbonara. and his motorbike. he would buy an harley davidson if had 100 million yen. on his last day on earth he would drive his motorbike at full speed off a cliff into the sea. he hates pasta alfredo because wtf is that. and sweatshirts without pockets. he sleeps 3 hours per night and spends the rest of the time overthinking attempting to sleep lay down in a depressive state reading and drawing. he is quite bad at emoting. he is lorenzo's best friend - and the one who spoke to him first among the u20 ubers. only his brother and lorenzo know he can draw. he was the one who designed lorenzo's tattoo. he used to paint graffiti when he was younger. but stopped when he found out the drawing he was working on was erased (he's still sad about it)

anyway he's basically my oc and i love him so much-

My mutuals' blorbos are my blorbos-in-law I love this guy. Hopefully he hasn't despawned and will make an appearance again😔😔 manifesting!!

Him🤝Satoshi [being the older twin brother]

AND HE NEEDS MORE SLEEP😭 PLEASE. I will roll him in a blanket like a burrito and give him a lil good night kiss

Also does he make drawings of Lorenzo as a possum? (He should)

[chiraulx3]

yall i made a oc guys

:3

yes it’s a little related to btd, i hope y’all like it yeah i named them Enea because i like the name they r genderfluid  they are a puppet but made with human skin instead of wood Lmao

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

Life is a Story

Thank you @writeintrees for the open tag! I'll leave this as an open tag as well, but please tag me if you take it up!

Rules: Complete the phrase "Life is a story we tell ourselves to..." in your OC's voice (instead of how they want to be seen by the people around them)

Gio: Life is a story we tell ourselves to feel like we should keep on living.

Cricket: Life is a story we tell ourselves to have a good time! And the bad parts just make the good parts all the more sweeter!

Fletcher: Life is a story we tell ourselves to...wait...what am I supposed to say again?

Eneas: Life is a story we tell ourselves to feel like we did something before we died.

Caelan: Life isn't a story we tell ourselves! Life is a story we tell others, silly!

Auster: Life is a story we tell ourselves to find our own meanings.

Cameron: Life is a story we tell ourselves to partake in the joy of telling a story.

[dmagedgoods]

For Eneas:

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling? Ah, nostalgia, his old enemy. One should assume he tried to get rid of it since it often led to intense suffering. His memories of what he lost are so vague, just enough to torture him, and at the same time: A valuable thing he would never want to lose. Over the years, the pain became less sharp, less all-consuming, and a bittersweet yearning instead. Now he almost enjoys the nostalgia, indeed. He definitely has a fondness for the warm, melancholy feeling regarding later sections of his life, thinking back to people he observed, influenced, guided for a while, how they shaped him in return, the twists and turns of the way he goes, the lessons he learned. Those memories are dear to him, another collection of small treasures. Nostalgia is triggered by many things for him, places connected to certain events and emotions, sometimes by as little as atmosphere, light, smell, a piece of clothing or jewelry, very often by a song or melody. 10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them? Of all the lies he tells? "I love you." - In all the forms it comes, non-verbally shown or spoken out loud in different phrases all meant to carry the same meaning and used like a weapon. "I care." "How do you feel?" "Let me show you." "I am here." and all those incarnations. Though maybe that's not fair, it rarely ever was a lie entirely. And still, it often led to the demise of those believing him. Does it haunt him? They do, they do. 22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? Eneas is not a terribly jealous person. And why would he be, he holds the strings and he is there to watch people react, to guide them, and to step back once he played his part. He binds people to his games and still rarely claims anyone for himself. Mentor, lover, experience, whatever he becomes, it's a role at the sideline. If things get uniquely deep with him though, ..., well, there might be hints of jealousy in phases when he wonders if his deeds from the past and who he is underneath the masks will destroy any possible future of the connection he secretly yearns for and if someone ... simpler would suit the spot better. Altogether, it needs more than a flirt or kiss to cause a strong reaction from him in most cases, and the slight jealousy coming with this sort of thing? Well, he can live with it, even smile about it. In stronger cases though, when the one he chooses in this special way (so very rare for him in the first place), really seems to be more interested in someone else, well, it depends: Should he find himself displeased with the one he's jealous of, he might destroy them. Of course, without making known that he's the one responsible. Should he come to the conclusion that the one he's jealous of is a better fit for the one he loves, though, he will leave.

[dujour13]

💎💎💎 Well then, Siavash's thoughts about Eneas?

When cornered Siavash is usually an expert at deflecting, but you catch him glance up guiltily as soon as the name is out of your mouth, and there’s no way he can hide the color that rises to his cheeks. He makes a good show of laughing it off but he’s been caught and he knows it. And he knows you know it.

“Three thoughts for three diamonds,” he says with exaggerated casualness, flipping a strand of hair from his face. “I can do that.”

“First thought. He plays the violin superbly.” A defiant grin. Are you going to make him elaborate? Delve into music theory?

You hold your ground. He must complete the thought.

“All right, fine. It’s warm, true, enchanting, terrifying. Like your soul is the strings and his bow makes it resonate…”

He trails off as if his tapered ear has caught a melody on the breeze only he can hear.

“All right, second thought. He’s fascinating.” That second thought seems to absorb him completely, and he’s elsewhere again for a moment. His eyes have gone dreamy. You are patient.

“Of course, that’s his talent. It seems too obvious. But I mean everything about him, not just the mask he happens to be showing the world. Underneath it—the core of him that he hides behind veil after veil—the golden tattoos and the pale scars. The depth of years stretching out behind him. The mystery of the places he’s been and the stories he tells. The secret longing in his heart—for freedom, for connection, for life.

“And in the center of it all is—" he stops himself. He will not entrust you with Eneas’ deepest secrets. “I’m fascinated. I can’t look away. I don’t want to look away.”

You make a note to ask how he knows about the tattoos and the scars, but that may put him on the defensive. You simply nod for him to continue.

“Third thought. Eneas is manipulative, sometimes even cruel, but he loves people more than anyone I’ve ever met, including me, and that’s saying something. The power of his enchantment emanates from his heart.

“He knows people. He loves what’s beautiful and what’s ugly and he sows their seeds, and he can coax blooms from all kinds. That’s his garden—people. He tends them, waters them, nourishes them, prunes them, twists their vines into elegant or terrible shapes, shines on them until they burst into flower of bright color or pale, monstrous blossom. And his favorite thing is to walk in his garden. He loves all of them.”

You can see Siavash steeling himself, drawing a steadying breath. “But that’s aesthetic love, not—not love love.” His voice falters.

He’s unable to meet your gaze anymore. He speaks barely above a whisper when he finally continues.

“That, he takes but he’s afraid to give. I think I know why but it still h—”

He squeezes his eyes shut and blinks to clear them. “It might heal him but it might also destroy him and I—I wouldn’t want that.”

He manages to transform a shaky breath into a laugh. There—he got through it. He’s smiling as much from relief as to hide the turmoil.

“I know you’ll report back to him. He has you on a string too.” He shrugs as he gets up to go. “I don’t mind.”

[suneiaaa]

my 2nd playthru Cross Enea!!!

[wzoryinne7033]

Zmiany Na Czele Listy 100 Najbogatszych Polaków! Oto Miejsca 1-10

Przed wysyłką program weryfikuje poprawność wprowadzonych danych. Według szacunkowych możliwościach w obecnym momencie na Kresach Wschodnich internowano 12 tys. 200 zł miesięcznie. Gdy suma gwarancyjna wzrośnie do 300 tys. Zbiorowe doły śmierci mieściły od 250 do 300 ciał. W niniejszym jedynym roku zostały przywrócone stopnie policyjne w licznej grup idealne do wojskowych, a też wprowadzono nowy wzór umundurowania. 1 wskazuje, że Policja Państwowa jest typowym stworzonym na kształt wojskowy korpusem danym do utrzymania bezpieczeństwa, klimatu i układu publicznego. Ostatecznie Sejm RP przyjął ustawę tworzącą nową prostą w sił kraju formację policyjną 24 lipca 1919 r., nadając jej firmę Policja Państwowa. Pierwszym Komendantem Głównym Policji Państwowej, w stanie inspektora generalnego, stał w dniu 24 lipca 1919 r. Jesienią 1941 r. w organizacjach AK został wybrany Państwowy Korpus Bezpieczeństwa oraz Referat Policyjny 995, którego komendantem głównym został insp. Korpus Policji Państwowej został rozwiązany rozporządzeniem Krajowej Rady Ministrów z dnia 1 sierpnia 1944. Równolegle Policja Państwowa została rozwiązana dekretem PKWN z dnia 15 sierpnia 1944 r. Na skali rozporządzeń Rady Obrony Państwa z dnia 30 lipca też z dnia 6 sierpnia 1920 r. W okresie wykonywania przez niego wielkości komendanta, tj. do lipca 1923 r. Grupie przez ENEA SA . Pozytywne wyniki przeprowadzonej mediacji są brane pod uwagę przez sąd przy wymiarze kary.

Stalin, Woroszyłow, Mołotow, Mikojan i Kaganowicz podjęli opinię o pomocy wniosku Berii o rozpatrzenie w porządku specjalnym, z wykorzystaniem kary śmierci przez rozstrzelanie, spraw 14 736 polskich jeńców, w współczesnym 1030 oficerów i podoficerów policji, ochrony pogranicza i żandarmerii oraz 5138 szeregowych policji, żandarmerii, więziennictwa i wywiadu. Jedną z najważniejszych opcji świadczonych przez kasyna online jest drogę grania w atrakcji hazardowych za darmo. Wdrażanie nowej form Policji Państwowej było przez kilka lat. Zaufanie, jakim marszałek Józef Piłsudski darzył pułkownika Janusza „Jagryma” Maleszewskiego, było podwaliną do mianowania go na miejsce komendanta głównego Policji Państwowej w listopadzie 1926 r. W listopadzie 1926 r. W listopadzie 1929 r. W 1929 r. zorganizowano pierwsze kursy specjalistyczne dla policji śledczej i kobiecej. Uzupełniono wyposażenie Policji o materiały i urządzenia konieczne do utrzymywania jej założeń (broń, specjalistyczne laboratoria, psy policyjne itd.). W roku 1920 zostały wprowadzone jednolite stopnie policyjne niemające charakteru stopni wojskowych. W tymże samym roku zorganizowano lotnictwo policyjne.

Po odparciu najazdu bolszewickiego przy Komendzie Głównej Policji Państwowej utworzona została Komenda Policji Terenów Przyfrontowych i Etapowych, na czele której wpisany został inspektor Tadeusz Brożek. Przepisy przejściowe nie regulują natomiast, w jaki sposób obliczać limit 33 miesięcy dopuszczalnego zatrudnienia terminowego, jeżeli umowa na okres określony została zawarta po 22 lutego 2016 r. Sytuacja polityczna w końca i czas wojny polsko-bolszewickiej nie sprzyjały realizacji zadania. Niedokonanie tego obowiązku powoduje, że umowa obraca się w umowę zawartą na etap nieokreślony, a wysokość rachunku może liczyć kwotę abonamentu poza promocją zwiększoną nawet o 50%. Wypowiedzenia samoistnie przedłużonej umowy co rzeczywistość nie będzie się wiązało już ze zwrotem tzw. OC można jeszcze złożyć osobiście u jednego z Przedstawicieli firmy AXA, miej jednak aby poprosić o potwierdzenie złożenia wypowiedzenia. Warto podkreślić, że Keynes chciał, aby wydatki państwowe finansować kosztem deficytu budżetowego. Pamiętaj aby zobowiązania wypisać ze znakiem ujemnym! Wprowadzono system ciągłego uczenia i rotacji funkcjonariuszy (np. wynoszono ich z funkcji śledczej do całkowitej, z dużych miast do niższych i odwrotnie, tak aby mogli uzyskać badanie w nowych warunkach). Ponadto myśli o dostarczaniu alkoholu i odbiorze śmieci, aby zapewnić pełnię usług dla domu.

Wyjątkiem jest tu np. handel biżuterią też nowe obszary działalności objęte podatkiem VAT niezależnie od skali sprzedaży lub wykonywanych usług. ”. W obecnym artykule sprawdzimy, czym stanowi faktura VAT a czym różni się od faktury pro forma. Likwidację obozu w Ostaszkowie rozpoczęto 4 kwietnia 1940 r. Opinia o stanie jeńców z Ostaszkowa zapadła 5 marca 1940 r. Drugie grupy jeńców dostarczano do Kalinina (obecnie Twer), do budynku zarządu obwodowego NKWD (dziś Twerski Instytut Medyczny), gdzie w podziemiach gmachu przygotowano specjalną dźwiękochłonną celę. W styczniu 1928 r. Istotne dla procesu szkoleniowego było spowodowanie nowego programu kształcenia funkcjonariuszy policyjnych, który został uznany 3 czerwca 1928 r. Kluczowe znaczenie posiadało i polepszenie sytuacji materialnej funkcjonariuszy (wzrost wynagrodzeń), choć nadal była ona daleka od oczekiwań. Straty funkcjonariuszy PP w terminie okupacji hitlerowskiej były kluczowe. Okupant umieścił funkcjonariuszy PP na liście osób, które po wybuchu powstania miano zlikwidować. https://pytaniapdfy.pl/artykul/7433/wzor-wniosku-o-pozwolenie-na-rozbiorke-doc składnikiem był początek powstania warszawskiego, w jakim wzięli udział również policjanci. Istnieje więc więcej niezgodne z objaśnieniami do druku NIP-8.