#owner operator factoring

[avaaltechnologysolutions]

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[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I don’t think people understand how smart Leon actually is. That man had high marks from the police academy, hence why Chief Irons (in the orientation letter Leon has in RE2R) says that his grades are commendable and that R.P.D. are proud to have him on the force.

This got me thinking a lot because at first I thought being a police officer didn’t take much given that anyone today can be in the force.

But that wasn’t the case in 1998.

I did a little research because I thought it would be interesting to see just what Leon had to go through to become a police officer.

Back in the 90s, cellphones and modern technology didn’t exist such as DNA identification and body cams/car cams. This definitely made the job a bit harder than it is today because there was a need for more evidence to be collected and the overuse of your brain. Nowadays, technology is an important factor in the police force and almost everything is done by the computer now.

So let’s picture this: It’s the late 90s right before he got sent to Raccoon City. He’s in the academy and he has to go through training. Especially with weapons since most academies switched from revolvers to semi-auto guns (already something a bit modern for that time).

For those who’ve played the game, when you go into the Shooting Range room, you can clearly see just how old the room is compared to modern shooting ranges. Not only is the design of the target paper old, it’s also very simplistic compared to today’s (in 2024, most markings have numbers and more lines for accuracy than back in the day).

This meant that Leon had to train a good amount of time to perfect his aim. It also meant that he had to go through driving training—which was mostly Emergency Vehicle Operations Courses (EVOC: safe and defensive driving for cops in other words)

I’d like to think that his determination (when he told Ada that the reason he joined the force was for people like Emma and Gunshop owner) really helped him advance through his academic route of the training and I’d like to believe that he go high scores because of that.

The 90s were a pivotal time for new policies to be introduced in police academies. When Leon was a kid, presumably during the 80s, he probably saw just how different it was back then than it is now (in 1998) lots of “new” technology were introduced to him when he first started the training. And he probably had to adapt quickly to the technologies and new techniques.

Leon is quick on his feet, he grasps a lot of things and I’m tired of people making him out to be as some dumb blonde with muscles. He’s very smart and we see that throughout the games and films.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he was GT when he grew up.

EDIT: MB YALL😭 GT is a program for students K-12 where they’re put in advanced classes like AP or IB. It stands for Gifted and Talented (something like the Magnet Program in some schools in the US)

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

““The girls are unable to say anything because they are always being policed. You can’t ask questions, you won’t get the evidence on a silver platter. But when you are going around, you hear things and see things,” Singh explains, sitting in a nondescript office, piles of cardboard files all over the floor, documenting the thousands of girls they have rescued over the years, approximately 4,000 at last count. 

“Most of the time the girls are locked up and they are only allowed out when a customer comes in. To ensure they are not interacting with the customers, the brothel keepers are always banging on the door and take away the mobiles of the customers.”

As a result of an 11-month long operation, conducted before the pandemic, Guria India were able to rescue 136 underage victims of traffickers, resulting in 61 brothels being shut down.”

In the narrow alleyways of Meerganj, the notorious red light district in the city of Allahbad, a man dressed in a brown kurta with a rucksack walks past the dilapidated brothels shouting ‘lipsticks for sale, good prices.’ 

He barely warrants a glance, one of dozens of street sellers who stroll down the alley daily, hawking their wares, a common sight in the hustle and bustle of cities in India.

Word has got around that he’s selling good quality products like Max Factor and other brands the brothel girls recognise from billboards featuring their favourite Bollywood actresses. He’s cheaper than the other sellers and lets them pay in instalments. 

A group of young girls flock to him, picking up bright lipsticks and face powders, to make them look older than they are, or perhaps not, depending on the client’s preferences.

But this is no ordinary seller. He is from Guria India, an organisation which rescues and rehabilitates women and underage girls trapped in the sex trade. 

He has been working undercover, disguised as a cosmetics seller, gathering evidence of victims of traffickers who have been forced into sex work, many of whom are underage and often thousands of miles away from home.

“You are working on a razor’s edge. There are no second chances. One wrong move and you could be killed. It’s not like a movie where you get a retake,” says Ajeet Singh, Director of Guria India.  

The nature of trafficking is changing and so activists are having to find new and innovative  means to take them on. 

Singh said he came up with the idea of posing as a make-up seller after he found that the brothel owners were always one step ahead of him. 

“It was always very difficult to rescue the girls because someone would leak the information and the brothel keepers would move the girls. The girls were not a priority for the system, so the police were not helpful. We had to be proactive in getting the evidence.”

Using rudimentary equipment he bought from Delhi, including spy cams concealed in a pen and button, he began scouring the streets of the red light district for almost a year. 

“Make-up is something very enticing for girls. If you go to India, you’ll see street sellers in every city so I knew I would blend in,” he said.

“The girls are unable to say anything because they are always being policed. You can’t ask questions, you won’t get the evidence on a silver platter. But when you are going around, you hear things and see things,” Singh explains, sitting in a nondescript office, piles of cardboard files all over the floor, documenting the thousands of girls they have rescued over the years, approximately 4,000 at last count. 

“Most of the time the girls are locked up and they are only allowed out when a customer comes in. To ensure they are not interacting with the customers, the brothel keepers are always banging on the door and take away the mobiles of the customers.”

As a result of an 11-month long operation, conducted before the pandemic, Guria India were able to rescue 136 underage victims of traffickers, resulting in 61 brothels being shut down. 

Social media ‘weapon of choice’ for traffickers

The sting, which was signed off by local people, used undercover filming to collect evidence against offenders. When enough had been gathered, ten members of the Guria India team joined police as they carried out dawn raids, using iron cutters to access properties where the victims were being held.

There are an estimated 1.2 million children under 18 working in brothels in India, many of whom have been victims of sex traffickers. Approximately 75 per cent of the cases Guria India dealt with involved under age victims ranging from just six months to 17.

The majority of these trafficked children are from lower castes and more than half of them are from families living below the poverty line.  

While many of the girls sold to brothels are trafficked by relatives or family friends, in recent years, social media, with its low-risk and high rewards, has become the weapon of choice of traffickers, luring victims in with lucrative job offers or promises of marriage. 

“The internet and exploitative romantic relationships are key factors for trafficking in recent times,” said children’s rights activist Bharti Ali.

“Often, the police don’t start their search in cases of adolescent girls immediately as they believe it to be a case of elopement. Many cases end up in girls being sold further by the boy/person they trusted or who promised them false marriage.

“When girls go missing, parents often try to search within their own community, her friends and relatives. This is when they lose critical time. When they suspect that she may have eloped, they may tend to not report at all to protect family honour … The girls too are unable to report as the traffickers keep a close watch on them.”

For victims of traffickers, their introduction into the world of prostitution is a brutal and violent one, in which they face beatings, gang rape and starvation. Some victims also reported having chilli powder placed on their genitalia and being subjected to electric shocks. 

Among the girls they have rescued is Sarita, who was just 12-years-old when she was sold to a sex trafficker by her older brother and was transported 700 km away to work in a brothel. 

“My mum was working in Mumbai and I lived with my sister. My brother was a drug addict. He told me he was taking me to see my mum but instead he sold me to a trafficker. I was locked in a room and beaten and raped by several men. I managed to find a phone and called my mum,” she said.

Sarita’s mother, along with the police and Guria India activists, were able to rescue her and relocate the family. However, the majority of victims are not so lucky. India remains a socially conservative society and victims of trafficking will often be ostracised by their families and community. 

Rescuing victims of trafficking is only half the battle, while keeping them out of the hands of traffickers presents another challenge. 

Rehabilitating victims back into a society which was already hostile to them in the first place is difficult and often the girls will end up falling back into the hands of traffickers. 

In one case, 57 girls who were rescued by Guria were sent to a shelter home in Agra for rehabilitation, but were re-trafficked by the superintendent of the centre. Just this week, the superintendent was acquitted by the Supreme Court and Guria India is currently fighting the decision. 

Despite the setbacks, Singh remains hopeful. “Although I don’t think we can eradicate child prostitution in my lifetime, I’m hopeful we can set the foundations to make the change,” he said.

And sometimes all it takes is a rucksack and a Max Factor lipstick. 

[bitterrobin]

Either I make multiple housekeeper ocs for my au or at least half of Wayne Manor is kept boarded up indefinitely. Sorry to burst people's bubbles but there is no conceivable way Alfred by himself is cleaning the entire mansion.

I've grown up helping my mother (who otherwise works alone w chronic back pain) clean middle to upper class homes here in SoCal. In very white oriented areas with housewives and large families with dogs and good financial situations. Now, there's a huge difference between large modern homes that have only two maybe three floors and the entire floor plan of a mansion that's at minimum built in the 1800s and has 30 rooms. But fundamentally the problems with upkeep are the same. You need to sweep all the floors, mop, wipe the baseboards, vacuum every carpet. You need to wipe clean windows, fans, HC units, lightbulbs, staircases, every surface used constantly - kitchen countertops, bathroom counters, showers/bathtubs/toilets. You need to do laundry, not only clothes, but towels and bedding used by the owners and the rags you use to clean. Fold that laundry. Make the beds. Take out every full trashbag and haul it out of the house. Wash dishes daily. Put those dishes away. Occasionally remind the owner that maybe a light needs fixing, there's a hole in their daughter's sweater, the dog peed inside, that their son tends to stuff trash under the couch cushions and now they have an ant infestation.

On average, with my help, it takes my mom 4-5 hours for one two-floor house. Takes longer by herself. That's not even getting into the amount of people and pets. If there's kids, you need to clean after their spaces more than the adults. With babies, there's diapers and toys all over. With dogs or cats there's always always fur to pick up. The bigger the family, the busier they are, the messier the house. And thats all for a housekeeper that visits every week and gets paid in numbers ranging from 6$0 to $100. (And often people will forget to pay you and you have to stretch out your budget for weeks and weeks and then they pay you and they forget again next month).

For Alfred, as an official butler and employee, he lives at the manor. There's no cost for him that comes from travel (no car to pay for fuel) or cleaning supplies (Bruce probably pays for them). But everything else? Not to mention the added chaos factor of BEING VIGILANTES. Alfred not only upkeep the house they live in, but prepares food, clothing, scheduling, and cleans the Batcave and feeds the bats, at least two large dogs, and one cat. Theres multiple cars and vehicles, guns, weaponry, technology to watch out for (and I know the average fanon enjoyer doesn't know Harold Allnut should be doing that). He picks Bruce's clothes and dresses him for godssake. Hell, Alfred even operates the Batcomputer when needed every night. He does their medical care (and people forget about Leslie yet again, even regarding her relationship w Bruce, still. still.) That's too much for one old man.

Realistically, either Bruce has a full house staff like nobles used to have, or Alfred simply does not do as much as people think. He's old. Forever aging. There's not going to be 20+ plus rooms ready all the time for people to sleep in. At best, the residents of the Manor are Bruce, Tim, and Damian. At best, their bedrooms are kept clean daily. All the other bedrooms are cleaned maybe monthly. The rooms that aren't bedrooms (foyers/attics etc) maybe every other month. Groceries are multiple day events. Same with cooking full meals, dietary plans. Galas and business functions require weeks and months. The pets take days for veterinary care and training. The kids all together take weeks, days individually and together. And they not only look at you as a butler but as family. You are responsible for their wellbeing, emotions whether you like it or not (bc Alfred frankly enables Bruce too much but thats for another day).

Only saving grace he has is that recently not many people live there anymore. Stephanie and Helena and Kate and Barbara shouldn't be living there in the first place. Dick and Jason have their own places. Tim and Cassandra are up in the air but I don't think they spend 100% of their time in the Manor because they're young adults with various circumstances.

[transmutationisms]

(If you're alrght with another poorly articulated question from an obnoxious high schooler) Do you have thoughts on academics and their position in a labor framework? I know some grad students and have never been quite sure where they fit because they don't always work with "capital" in a traditional sense. Professors are odd to me because they are under university contract, but rather than get paid by the university they often get their own funding from the government. Or graduate sudents, who are often unionized, but I know a paleontology student who studies shark fossils who says he doesnt really consider what he does "making surplus value."

ok well that last person is simply confused lol. graduate students exist because the university profits from having us; it is a capitalist institution. most directly we usually work as teaching assistants or research assistants (or else pay tuition) and more indirectly, graduate programs get funding and university support because their existence contributes to a university's rankings, prestige factor, &c, which is to say its (perceived) profitability. plenty of us study things that don't produce much directly lucrative research, but this does not mean the university keeps us around for shits and giggles or some kind of laudatory interest in knowledge for its own sake. it is a capitalist institution and acts in the financial interest of its owners / beneficiaries.

anyway wrt faculty members, they are also employed by the university because it profits from them (or hopes to, anyway). i think many people get confused by tenureship; tenure is indeed fairly cushy as far as employment contracts go, but it is is still an employment contract, and most faculty are not actually tenured anyway. academics are a classic example of the 'professional-managerial class', which is not a marxian term but is a useful one for identifying those 'upper-middle class' members differentiated by their professional qualifications and status; the prestige and perceived utility of academic knowledge production is partially what makes academics an attractive target for a lot of government and NGO funding. state funding of academic research ofc has numerous functions but, and not to put too fine a point on it, a capitalist state also invests money in things because it is hoping for some kind of return on investment, eg in the form of directly profitable inventions, soft power, &c.

there are distinctions here between different academic employment statuses. an adjunct or contingent hire is paid by the university solely to teach, making their labourer status fairly straightforward. with tenured or tenure-track positions, yes there may also be money coming from outside; however, this doesn't negate the fact that the university is trying to profit from its faculty (else it wouldn't hire them). the professional-managerial class has certain characteristics of both proletariat and bourgeoisie, and there is some variation between academics as a very select few do attain the kind of household name status that can turn them into basically a personal brand. again though: the university wants to extract value from the work (both teaching and research) of academics it hires, and so do outside sources of funding for research projects. knowledge production should not be mystified or abstracted in ways that obfuscate the financial interests of involved parties; though it attains a prestige that few other commodities do, this is still a process that is embedded within the overall operating logics of capitalism.

an additional consideration wrt internal academic class politics is that many faculty use graduate students, postdocs, and even undergrads to perform or assist with their research. these arrangements vary in structure (and between disciplines) but in general, this does mean that many academics produce papers, books, &c that depend upon the labour of many people and rarely compensate these people equally to themselves. this can take the form of a more overtly employer-employee relationship between a professor and their underlings (for example, some labs are run this way) or it can be the case that it's another party (a publisher, say) who is reaping most of the surplus value squeezed from grad / undergrad / postdoc labour. in any case it is important to keep in mind that professors can and often do take on employer (ie, small capitalist) roles in relation to other employees of the university, even though the professors themselves are there because the university and other institutions pay them and profit from their labour.

i hope this is a useful start; obviously there is lots else to be said about the economics of the university and knowledge production as a capitalist process. in general when you are trying to think through this my advice would be not to let the presentation of the university as some kind of cerebral place of enlightenment confuse a materialist analysis of the flows of capital. plenty of workers and capitalists deal with commodities that are immaterial in the sense that 'knowledge' is, or are imbued with similar social meaning and value; the university deals with knowledge production but this does not make it any less an employer (ie, a capitalist institution) than any other institution operating in a capitalist context.

[spaghettioverdose]

regarding your recent posts on petit bougeoisie, one thing ive never managed to understand is how someone like an independent digital artist isnt considered to be selling their labour. in that scenario there is nothing they own that is making them more capable of making artworks, as they could fairly easily just be working off of a library computer or something, and what they’re selling is basicaly just the time and skill they’ve invested into producing their clients request. so besides the fact that they arnt being paid hourly and are instead charging based on how much work they’ve done, i dont really understand how they’re not considered to be selling their labour?

with something like a carpenter selling chairs or something i can more understand it as theres at least a physical thing being owned with the wood, and another being sold with the chairs, but even there it still seems like a stretch to say they’re not selling their labour at least in part, as the increased price of the chair compared to the wood is due to the work the carpeter put into sculpting it.

so far any reading ive done has been only really adressing small buisness owners who employ others and not really touching fully independent people working off of commisions or similar models of buisness, so im hoping you can clarify this for me or direct me to somewhere that does

Firstly, a clarification: a worker is not selling their labour, but rather their labour power. In some of the earlier works by Marx and Engles, they talk about selling their labour, which is later corrected to labour power. This is a more precise and useful term. When we refer to selling labour power, we are talking about the worker selling their ability to work for a given amount of hours in exchange for a wage. The worker who builds phones in a factory does not sell phones to the capitalist and their are not paid per phone. They are paid per hour. What is being purchased is their ability to work during those hours.

According to the formulation of labour in your ask, essentially everyone would be proletarian. In all commodities, regardless of who produces them and how they are made, the labour hours used to create them are factored into the price.

When it comes to independent artists, they are putting their labour power into the commodity (regardless if it is physical or digital) that their are selling, rather than selling the labour power itself. When an artist makes art in exchange for patreon money or doing comissions, the commodity that they are selling is the piece of art that they have made, rather than their labour power. They also receive income in the form of profits and not wages. This is in contrast with, for example, a digital artist who works for a AAA games company and is paid a wage for their ability to produce a certain amount of art per hour, rather than the piece of art itself.

In theory you could be an independent digital artist as someone who draws with a mouse on mspaint at a library computers and perhaps someone has done this before, but it is absolutely not how independent digital artists tend to operate. In reality, an independent digital artist is someone who owns a set of tools (copy of art software, computer, drawing tablet etc.) which act as the means of production when they produce a commodity (a piece of art that they intend to sell). When they invest their money into their further ability to produce more commodities (buying better software or hardware for example), that money acts as capital.

If I misinterpreted any part of your ask, please let me know.

As far as reading recommendations, and assuming that you have read Wage Labour and Capital, I would recommend Value, Price and Profit which touches more on this.

[majosullivan]

In episode 83, we got our confirmation that Pluto is missing an eye, his father being the reason he’s missing an eye, like with the owner in the Black Cat and the exact details about what happened. However, we still don’t know what Pluto’s eye looks after what happened and how much time passed between Pluto losing his eye and his death. Well, I was thinking about this and I came to a pretty sad realisation. Thanks to Ironscorpion on the Nevermore discord, the current timeframe we have for Pluto is 1923-1928. The NHS was formed in 1948, so at the latest, twenty years after Pluto lost his eye. Before the NHS was created, people were generally required to pay for their healthcare, although free treatment was sometimes available from charitable voluntary hospitals, as well as some local authorities operating hospitals for local ratepayers. Now from what we’ve seen, Pluto and his dad don’t seem to be well off, far from it. In addition, considering what we’ve seen from his dad and the obvious factor of him being the reason Pluto lost his eye in the first place, I doubt he would pay or even allow Pluto to seek out treatment. So, depending on how much time passed between losing his eye and his death, it’s possible that Pluto was never able to go to a hospital for his eye and had to do his best to treat it himself. Furthermore, even if he was able go to a hospital, chances are that he would have to sneak out and pay for it himself

[theroyalsims]

BREAKING: NOT YOUR ORDINARY BUILDER - GUS IS A SELF-MADE MAN AND ANYA’S ELUSIVE FIRST LOVE

There’s more to him than meets the eye! More details of Anya’s latest love have emerged and it looks like he’s not just a regular builder, contrary to what was earlier reported.

“Gus” is actually Baris Gustavo Aslan, a licensed Engineer and owner of Aslan Builders, a construction company operating in Rennaux, Tartosa, and Champs les Sims. He graduated from the Université Royale de Rennaux with a degree in Civil Engineering. He also holds a Masters in Engineering from the same university. If that university sounds familiar, it’s because it happens to be the very same school that The Crown Princess attended. While they were, indeed, schoolmates, the pair reportedly first met as children. Gus also served in the Rennaux Army (Rennaux has mandatory military service), and prior to moving permanently to Tartosa, was a volunteer firefighter in his neighbourhood's fire brigade.

(Above: Anya's new -old- beau is her first love and childhood sweetheart, engineer Gus Aslan.)

Gus is the eldest child of Lucia, a native of Tartosa, and Emir Aslan, who emigrated from Ekhkare, a country located north of Al-Simhara. He has two younger sisters, Dilara and Gül. His dad was a train conductor, while his mum worked at the Rennaux Palace gift shop as the store manager. It is there that Gus reportedly first met Crown Princess Anya. Anya, along with her siblings Eleanore and Alistair, used to "work" at the gift shop during their summer vacations in Rennaux. A source reveals:

"They first met as children. The Queen's oldest kids, Anya, Eleanore, and Alistair, used to 'work' at the gift shop where they would be paid in cakes and cookies. It was something they looked forward to during their summer trips to Rennaux. That's when Gus and Anya first met. They were maybe, seven, eight years old? At that time, the Aslans were living in Rennaux. Gus' mum was the shop manager.

Gus and Anya became quick friends, and their friendship lasted throughout their teens. They secretly started 'officially' dating right before they both entered uni. I think Gus was a major factor why Anya chose to study in Rennaux. However, they broke up shortly before graduating from uni."

(Above: Gus and Anya were spotted having a lunch date in Rennaux over the weekend. Rennaux has become their "middle ground" as of late, meeting halfway to make time for each other despite their very busy schedules.)

Although it was common knowledge that Anya was seeing someone when she was studying in Rennaux, not much was known about the Crown Princess' elusive "first love." The radio silence was attributed to rumours of an NDA and threats from both the Rennaux and Brindleton royal families. Further, Anya's godfather, the Duke of Fjord, owns television and radio networks, as well as major publications in Rennaux - making it completely possible to bury any news about young Anya's relationship.

Why Anya's past with Gus was kept hidden is unsure. However, what's certain is the fact that they're giving their relationship another go. The two reportedly rekindled their romance last year when Anya traveled to Tartosa to purchase a villa. The source further reveals:

"Anya had her eyes set on this beautiful villa, so Anya made a few early trips to Tartosa to see the place. She loved it, but it needed a bit of work. When she returned during her hiatus, she was introduced to a 'contractor' who specialised in restoring historic houses. Of course, that contractor turned out to be Gus.

These two were inevitable. They were like two magnets drawn to each other. I'm convinced Anya tried to fight it because I genuinely think that Gus was her biggest heartbreak - him being her literal first love and all. Gus, too, was a bit apprehensive because he's had his heart broken before. But things just clicked into place. They started talking and hanging out again. Anya extended her stay and they spent more time with each other. When they were apart, they stayed in constant touch via video calls and text. Gus flew in a few days before Winterfest. Anya made stealthy trips to Tartosa during the holidays. By then, they both knew that they wanted to be with each other."

(Above: These two only have eyes for each other! Anya loves being in Rennaux because unlike in Brindleton, she can go around town -with bodyguard in tow, of course- without making too much of a fuss.)

As for Gus being a "measly" builder, the source further spills:

"To begin with, there's nothing 'measly' about the job. Being a builder is honest and decent work, and Gus knows that - that's why he's not at all afraid to be hands-on with his projects. He could very well just sit in a comfy chair, wear a tie, and boss his people around, but having come from very humble beginnings, he knows the value of hard work. He's well-loved by his people and he treats everyone as his equals. He's not Mr. Aslan. With his team, he's simply 'Gus.' But don't let the tattered hat and muddy boots fool you. He's very well-off. He's a self-made millionaire who lives very comfortably - he just doesn't like to show-off."

The case of Anya's Mystery Man is officially solved! A second chance love - who'd have thought? You know what they say - love is sweeter the second time around. Hopefully that saying rings true to Anya and Gus! And can we just say, these two make a very beautiful couple! Here's hoping we see more of our new favourite lovebirds soon!

[tommysversion]

Fall In Love In A Single Touch. (Modern!Oberyn x F!Reader)

Summary: you have birth trauma, and you’ve been hiding it from Oberyn, until finally it all comes out. (Title from the attached song.)

Warnings: graphic description of cesarean birth / internalised fat phobia / ptsd / graphic description of birth trauma / description of chronic pain & birth injury

Notes: this is entirely a projection of my own experiences. I’m going through a lot in my own healing journey from having a traumatic birth, with a birth injury & other nastiness. Writing this was incredibly healing for me. For any other cesarean mamas who may feel the same way as I do… this is for you.

Everyone always makes it sound like birth is some magical experience, something that, if you’re a uterus owner, completely changes you. They’re right about the second part, but honestly? It’s not always a good thing, not always a good change.

You wouldn’t change this - the actual physical act of bringing your child into the world - don’t regret for a single moment saying yes when Oberyn had told you he wanted more children; his ninth, your first. You’d never really given much thought to how pregnancy would go, having been too concerned with whether you actually could conceive in the first place.

You’d been so scared you wouldn’t be able to, that you’d have to go through the gruelling, painful, expensive rounds of IVF that some of your friends had endured. That Oberyn was beyond wealthy, a literal fucking Prince, didn’t matter. You’d been afraid, not of the cost, but of disappointing him. Of not being able to give him the children he still wanted, and then, even though you knew realistically he would never, the fear that he would leave you for someone who could.

To your absolute shock and delight - both of you - that hadn’t been an issue at all. You’d fallen pregnant easily, and aside from morning sickness that seemed to last all day, things went relatively well. Then you’d gone over term, been induced, and when that had failed to progress? You’d gone in for an emergency cesarean. One minute you’d been breathing in with a mask on your face. The next, you were waking up under a heated blanket. Still dazed when they’d placed your baby in your arms, unsure of who or where you were or what the fuck had just happened to you.

That Oberyn was older than you by two decades and rich meant nothing; he could have left the nurses to care for you, but he insisted on helping you stand, practically hobble like an old woman to the shower, letting you hold onto his shoulders as the water had drenched you both, afraid you’d fall over. He hadn’t let you fall then, had the patience you so desperately needed as your body recovered. You’d thought maybe the incision site would be what took the longest, not factoring in the mental healing you’d have to do, too.

You loved your daughter; watching her eight sisters dote on her made your day, and watching Oberyn with her filled your heart with joy and hope. He had lost Ellaria, which had been unbearably painful for him, and you had come from violence and pain. You had been so afraid that things with him had been too good to be true… only, it wasn’t. He was a good man. Kind and patient and loving, even if he had a sharp tongue and a temper when needed, it had never been directed at you.

Some of his past lovers, friends of his still, talked of how he was rough, how he bit and choked and hurt, but he never raised a hand to you. Had said that he liked having someone to be soft with, and knowing your past? He wouldn’t even consider it.

You knew, deep down, that you’d done what you’d had to do to bring your child safely into the world. You were proud of that. Proud that, when it had come down to it, you had let them lay you down on an operating table and been prepared not to wake up again, made your peace with it, as long as your baby had survived.

But logic doesn’t always win out against the head demons, and you’re too exhausted to battle them as fiercely as you once did, putting all your energy into your child, into loving her with all your heart and soul.

You can’t help but feel like you failed. Like your body failed you. You’re left with stretch marks all over you, which you’re proud of on a good day and loathe on a bad day. Left with a scar that you joke about but secretly worry that your lover finds repulsive. Left four dress sizes bigger than you were before, and too afraid to bear more children just in case. Just in case your body fails again. Rejects your placenta and sends your blood pressure sky rocketing, making you feel like your head is in a vice. You’re afraid of pain you barely remember, and above all? You’re afraid of what it means for your future with Oberyn, who desperately wanted more children with you.

“I’m not about to put you through that again.” He had said, and he had meant it, even if it hurt him. Even if it wasn’t truly what he wanted; you mean more to him than having yet more children. Nine is a good number, he had joked, there had to be an end somewhere.

You feel a burning guilt for that, too. Knowing that your brain has done that amazing thing where it wipes out the pain of labor, of everything you went through. You remember flashes of clinical lighting. Of being lifted from one bed to the operating table. Of a sense of calm in the face of the unknown. While you may not remember, you know he does. Know that he remembers every second that felt like years when you screamed, when you’d felt like you might die from the pain when the drugs stopped working.

And while he pretends it doesn’t hurt? You know it does. Know that while he’s strong, a warrior, a man who’s fought dozens of wars for his country, seeing you like that and unable to help? It almost broke him, too.

It’s part of why you keep your suffering to yourself, incredibly aware that every time you mention it, it brings up those memories for him. They aren’t as easily buried, no matter how much he may flatly say he’s repressing it. Nine daughters between six different women, and he’s never seen a birth as horrific as yours.

He knows you’re struggling, but it doesn’t really get brought up. You skirt around the topic, love each other fiercely, spend all your time together invested in your child. Maybe he’d think you were doing okay, if he didn’t see the emptiness that flickers through your eyes at times. If he didn’t catch you looking at yourself critically in the mirror, in the heavily tinted windows of the cars you drive. If he didn’t hear you making bitter comments to your friends about your changed shape.

He’s undeniably a clever man, but he has no idea how to broach this topic. How to fix you, when you won’t even acknowledge that you’re broken. Hell, you put so much effort into pretending that you’re fine that he worries it would insult you to know that it’s not fooling him, not for a second.

The dam breaks one night when your daughter is a few months old. You’d woken from a nightmare, not wanted to wake him. On shaking feet you pulled yourself from the bed, crossed the room to check on your sleeping child before you’d returned to bed and curled in on yourself.

You’d been left with pain where they’d cut, where they’d had to tear through your already weakened abdominal muscles to get to the girl you had named Ellaria for his lost love. You’d healed well, externally, but internally? Not so much. The specialists you had seen since still weren’t sure if it was going to be permanent.

The pain was bad; you’d been trying to keep as quiet as possible, overwhelmed by your own anxiety and the physical pain you’re in. You’ve been trying so hard to hide the extent of your struggling from him, you didn’t want to wake him, even though you know deep down he’d rather you did.

Curled in on yourself, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, you don’t want to wake Oberyn or the baby as you cry, too overwhelmed by your own emotions - you’ve always struggled to regulate yourself, and there’s only so much a person can take - you’re beyond your limit, taking on more and more, pushing yourself to keep going even though you should have stopped long ago, relieved yourself of some of your burden and leaned on the people who love you.

You’re fucking stubborn. Stubborn and full of self loathing. So when a familiar pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you close, mindful of the patch just below your naval that constantly aches, mindful of the space to the left of your spine that hurts on and off where a nerve was hit when they put your epidural in, you swipe your tears away furiously, ready to say that you’re fine.

Only, you aren’t fine, and you don’t have the energy to lie to him. Instead, you end up turning over and burying your face in his shoulder, weeping. Maybe it’s the comfort of knowing that, no matter what, Oberyn loves you. Knowing that he’s… him, and yet he’s still here, even though you deem yourself broken, that finally gets you to drop the act, taking in horrible shaking breaths, inhaling the faint scent of spices, liquor and pepper that always seem to cling to him, focusing on that, on his hands against your smaller frame; in that moment, he’s your anchor to the present.

“Oh, my sweet girl, why have you been hiding this from me? All of this pain…” his fingers card through your hair, “tell me what’s wrong?”

It briefly occurs to you that he isn’t blaming you, isn’t making you feel bad for hiding it; he seems only concerned with making sure you’re alright, and that only makes you cry harder, feeling like a total idiot for not talking to him, not trying to begin to explain what’s wrong.

He just holds you for a moment until you’re able to speak, getting the words out between sharp breaths.

“I just… hate… how I am now.” You choke out, “I feel so broken. It’s like… everything I’ve been through before, maybe I’d have come back from, but I just… I feel like my body betrayed me and failed me, and now I don’t even get a choice in having more children or how I have them, and I hate it. I hate it so much.”

Oberyn sits up, pulls you with him, keeps one arm around you as he reaches out to turn the stained glass lamp on the side table on. You duck your head, not wanting him to see you in this state.

One hand gently tucks under your chin, tilts your head up. His dark eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“Don’t look at me like this,” you sniffle. “I hate myself enough without giving you another reason to not be attracted to me.”

The look he gives you is somewhere between wounded and offended.

“What do you mean, another reason to not be-? Love, I saw you in the most pain you’ll ever experience in your life. You think I would be, what, disgusted by your pain?”

“No, but I’m all gross and snotty and piled on top of being fat and covered in these,” you poke critically at your stretch marks, tone miserable. You don’t care if you sound young and petulant, it’s hurting you, self loathing dripping from every word. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t want me.”

Oberyn doesn’t take it as youthful vanity. He knows all too well what you suffered to bring his daughter into the world. He watched you throw up almost every single day for five months, watched you get sick at the very end, watched you try to birth your child naturally. And then, even though it had damn near killed him to see you in so much pain, he had watched you do what needed to be done. Watched you grit your teeth and stand on shaking legs not even ten hours after being cut and ripped apart. He’s never been more proud of you, never loved you more than in that moment, knowing you had borne that suffering for him, for your child, the daughter you had both so desperately wanted.

“Listen to me.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, catching the tears that fall. “I don’t give a damn what size you are. So your shape has changed. It changed because you grew life. You’re softer now. Ria likes it, it means you’re soft to sleep on.”

You smile faintly at the little nickname he’s given your daughter; he’s right. If you weren’t the size you are now, you wouldn’t be as comfortable for her to sleep on.

“There you are.” He gives you an encouraging look when he sees the ghost of your smile. “In time, you’ll forget what it is to carry a child. You’ll forget what it felt like when she moved in you. These -“ his free hand gently touches the stretch marks on your sides and your thighs, “these are just a reminder that you created life, love. Wear them like badges of honour. Especially this one.”

His fingertips barely brush over the jagged edge of where they cut you open.

“This isn’t ugly. No matter what you think. It’s proof that you were willing to do whatever it took to get her here safely. That even though you were afraid and in pain? You put her first. That’s not something to be disgusted by or ashamed of.”

“Y-you really don’t hate it? Don’t hate me? Even though my body failed?”

He pulls you as tight against him as he feels safe doing, mindful of your pain sites.

“I don’t think I could ever love you more than I do at this moment. I’m so very proud of you, my love. Your body didn’t fail. You didn’t fail. I promise you.”

You’ve seen a multitude of emotions in his dark eyes before; amusement, malice, lust, anger, jealousy, sadness, grief, joy, and love. So much love. But even you have to admit, as jaded as you are right now, that you’ve never seen his gaze this soft with affection as he looks at you.

You take another deep, shaking breath before you look at him, blinking back more tears.

“You really don’t mind, if… if we don’t have any more?”

“Gods, no. I want you to be safe, above all else. That choice is entirely yours, sweet girl. If you decide you want another child, I will gladly give you as many as you wish, but… your safety, your happiness… they mean more to me than that.”

You nod slowly, watching his fingers trace idle patterns across your damaged skin; there’s no trace of disgust in his gaze. He touches you freely, without any criticism. You’ve been blind to it, so caught up in your own self loathing.

“Do you think… do you think I’ll be this broken forever?”

To Oberyn’s credit, he doesn’t try and tell you that you aren’t broken, but he also doesn’t take it as a slur. He knows you. Knows what you mean when you say that you’re broken.

“No, sweet girl, I don’t. I think that right now you’re hurting. You’ve endured so much, so much. Things that nobody should endure, and you’ve survived them. Only to be dealt this. Birth is never easy, never painless, but it seems cruel that you were dealt this hand. But I don’t think you’ll be this way forever. Not when you have me, when you have Ria and the older girls to support you.” He rubs comforting circles on your back as he gives you a moment to process this information.

“A-and you’re not… going to get sick of me?”

He laughs a little hollowly. Not because it’s funny, but because he finds the idea completely ridiculous.

“Sick of you? Before you, I thought I would die lonely. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’d never run out of people to fuck and keep me warm at night, but I never expected to find someone who mattered again. Do you truly think that your brain being cruel to you and a scar are enough to make me stop loving you?”

The way he says it, it sounds like a ridiculous concept, even to you in your fragile state. So ridiculous that you laugh softly.

“I… I guess not, when you put it that way.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. To the tip of your nose. To your lips before he pulls away from you as Ria stirs in her crib; he only leaves your side to go to her so that he can bring her to you to hold and comfort.

You watch him without speaking; within moments he’s back beside you, his arms around you as you cradle your half asleep daughter. Her dark curls are his, her closed eyes obsidian like his, too. She has your nose, your lips. Her tiny fist curls around your finger, and you smile slightly looking down at her.

“I know it isn’t easy. But I’m not going anywhere, love. And any time you need reminding that you didn’t fail? Look at her. Look at her and remember you did everything right. You’re doing everything right by her and I couldn’t be more proud of you.” He presses another kiss to your temple, and you have to bite back another little sob, eyes blurring with tears again; they’re different this time, grateful and relieved rather than tears of pain and sadness.

“I love you. Both of you. So much.” You manage to get out finally.

There’s no magic cure for what you’ve been through. There isn’t. You can’t wave a magic wand and erase the trauma, the pain. There’s no medicine you can take that will fix the damage to your body. It’s something that will take time. Time and patience. You know you need to be kinder to yourself, more gentle and loving to your own mind.

However, you do feel a little better having voiced what’s been eating away at you. At knowing that he doesn’t care at all that your body has changed. That your scars don’t bother him; that he loves every part of you, especially the visible reminders of what you’ve endured to bring his daughter into the world.

And he’s right; it will get better. Slowly but surely, the pain in your mind will ease. You’ll slowly start to accept your changed body, your scars and stretch marks, until acceptance turns to love. Until you can touch your incision site with a soft smile and pride rather than regret and disgust. Until you see yourself the way he does. Because even when you’re clouded by your own self loathing?

He’s always going to be there, always going to love you, always going to support you, because even if you can’t see it? He’s your sunlight, and he knows you deserve all the love in the world.

[vintageairplanehub]

Are Old Planes Safe to Fly?— A Look into the Reliability of Vintage Aircraft Models

Have you ever seen a vintage airplane model  fly and wondered, "Are old planes safe to fly?" The sight of these classic aviation models gracefully soaring through the sky can evoke a mix of nostalgia and admiration. Yet, it also raises questions about the safety of flying aircraft that have been around for decades.

The vintage airplane models lies in their historical importance and timeless design. These aircraft models represent an era when aviation was still in its infancy, and each flight was a pioneering adventure. However, the reality of flying these older planes in today's world requires careful consideration.

One key factor in determining the safety of old planes is the rigorous maintenance they undergo. Unlike modern aircraft, which are designed with advanced technology and materials, vintage airplane models rely heavily on regular inspections and meticulous upkeep. Owners and operators of these planes are often passionate about their aircraft, dedicating countless hours to ensuring that every component is in top condition. This attention to detail is critical because the safety of an old airplane models hinges on the reliability of its parts, many of which may no longer be in production and need to be custom-made or sourced from specialized suppliers.

Moreover, the regulatory environment for old planes are strict. Aviation authorities, such as the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA), impose strict guidelines on the operation of vintage aircraft models. These regulations ensure that only planes that meet specific safety standards are allowed to take to the skies. This means that an old airplane model must pass the same rigorous checks as a modern aircraft before it can be deemed airworthy. The pilots flying these planes are also subject to special certifications, ensuring they have the skills and knowledge to handle these unique aircraft models safely.

However, flying a vintage airplane model is not without its challenges. These aircraft were built in a different era, using materials and techniques that may not match the durability and performance of today's standards. For example, older engines may not be as fuel-efficient or powerful as modern ones, which could impact the plane's overall performance. Additionally, the aerodynamics of some old planes may not be as refined, making them more challenging to handle, especially in adverse weather conditions.

Despite these challenges, many aviation enthusiasts argue that old planes can be just as safe as their modern counterparts when properly maintained and operated. The key lies in understanding the limitations of these aircraft models and respecting the knowledge that has been passed down through generations of pilots and engineers. Flying a vintage airplane is not about getting from point A to point B—it's about preserving a piece of aviation history and experiencing the joy of flight in the early days of aviation.

In fact, some vintage airplane models have become iconic in their own right, celebrated for their unique design and historical significance. Aircraft models like the Douglas DC-3, the Boeing Stearman, and the Piper Cub are beloved by pilots and aviation enthusiasts. These planes have earned their place in the annals of aviation history, and their continued operation is a testament to the dedication of those who keep them flying.

So, are old planes safe to fly? The answer is that with the right care, expertise, and respect for the aircraft's heritage, they can be. Vintage airplanes represent more than just a mode of transportation—they are living pieces of history, connecting us to the golden age of aviation. For those who appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship of these aircraft models, the joy of seeing them take flight is worth the extra effort to ensure their safety. Whether you're an aviation enthusiast or just someone who admires the grace of these old planes, there's something truly special about watching a piece of history roaming the skies in todays world.

[dwellordream]

“The impact of both new technology and the growing influx of immigrant workers can best be seen in the New England textile mills. In the 1820s and 1830s, young women from the farm country of New England went to work in the massive brick textile factories springing up along the Merrimack River near Lowell, Massachusetts, and other New England towns. In 1820, Lowell--then called Chelmsford--was a sleepy village of about 200 farm families, located about 25 miles northwest of Boston. Six years later, it had grown into a town of 2,500 and was incorporated as the town of Lowell. In 1830, the population surged to 6,000, and tripled to 18,000 just six years later. By 1850, Lowell boasted a population of 33,000.

What created this booming growth was the rise of the textile industry. Other New England mill towns also grew, but Lowell quickly became the center of the New England textile industry and drew workers--mostly single women as young as 16 or 17--from across New England. These women generally came from the middle ranks of farm families, those that were neither impoverished nor wealthy. The desire to be financially and socially independent, to finance an education, or to simply experience the pleasures of living and working in a larger town drew many young farm women to the mills. Some women did contribute their earnings to their families, but mostly they worked in the mills to earn their own income.

…Mill owners insisted that their female hands be in their boarding houses by 10 o’clock each evening, and they urged boarding house keepers, usually older women, to report any violators to the management. In the early years, women were required to attend church services regularly, and some mill owners even deducted pew rent from the women’s earnings and paid it directly to local churches. These close living and working arrangements created a camaraderie among the women workers, a community of like-minded women who eagerly wanted to improve their minds and their lives. Throughout the 1830s and 1840s, they organized and attended lectures, language classes, sewing groups, and literary ‘improvement circles’--after working a 12-hour day. From one of these circles was born the Lowell Offering, the first journal ever written by and for mill women. The journal published poetry, short stories, and commentary penned by the female workers.

Workers also organized themselves into labor-reform groups to crusade for better working conditions and shorter workdays. As technological innovations enabled women to work faster and produce more, mill owners assigned more machines to workers--without raising wages. For example, at Hamilton Company, one of the mills in Lowell, the average number of looms per weaver more than doubled between 1840 and 1854. The workload for spinners increased as well. Workers were expected to operate more machines at a faster rate. But wages remained the same--although the company reaped higher profits from the workers’ increased productivity.

…In 1846, Elias Howe introduced the first sewing machine. Five years later, in 1851, the addition of a foot treadle for easier operation made the machine an indispensable tool. But instead of easing the sewer’s burden, the sewing machine increased it. Hand sewers could no longer compete with the sewing machine. In one day, one sewing machine operator could do as much work as six hand sewers. Hand sewers were forced to buy or rent sewing machines, or work in garment factories, where they had no control over their wages or hours.

To make matters worse, seamstresses, like the mill workers of New England, were expected to work faster and produce more while working for the same wages. New technology, such as the sewing machine or improved looms, enabled consumers to buy manufactured goods at reasonable prices--but at the expense of factory workers, who were not paid a fair wage for operating this new technology.

…Despite the long hours and low wages, women still preferred working in factories to being domestic servants. At least factory workers had some free time; servants were on call 24 hours a day. Domestics worked up to 16 hours a day, with one afternoon off each week. They earned $1 to $1.25 a week plus board. Servants’ duties varied according to their employers’ requirements and the number of other servants employed in the house. But in general, the work was very demanding. Domestics devoted entire days to washing, baking, ironing and cleaning each room. They were accustomed to heavy physical work--cleaning out fireplaces or emptying chamber pots--and trudging up and down staircases several times a day.

Besides enduring the back-breaking work, servants also had to endure the snobbery of their social ‘superiors.’ During the colonial era, servants were treated as part of the family and joined in all household activities. By the mid-19th century, however, they were regarded as mere hired hands, and were viewed as an inferior class. The Boston census of 1845 categorized servants as part of the ‘unclassified residue of the population.’ No wonder that young women wanted to avoid the social stigma of being a domestic.”

- Harriet Sigerman, “‘I Never Worked So Hard’: Weavers, Stitchers, and Domestics.’” in An Unfinished Battle: American Women, 1848-1865

[nyronus]

What is dwarf fortress

Dwarf Fortress is a colony management sim. It is, in fact, the grand daddy of the genre. Rimworld and Prison Architect are based off of it. So is Minecraft albeit in a very different way. It is famous for many things, but most of those are derived from two key factors; the complexity, number, and depth of the simulated systems and the jank of their implementation and interactions. Dwarves will experience trauma, ruminate on it, develop PTSD and then depression, then make a masterpiece carving of themselves killing another dwarf because their plans to kill that dwarf are what's on their mind at the time. Then they'll kill that dwarf. The game has simulated fluid dynamics that can cause engineering projects to realistically backfire but also allows for perpetual motion machines. Cats are a killer of forts not because they are deadly, but because unlike other animals they adopt owners rather than the other way around, breed quickly clogging up the game's performance, and then if you butcher them to save your CPU Dwarves will break down into civilization ending sectarian violence over the trauma of everyone losing their pets at once. Demons will take control of neighboring civilizations, posing as gods, visit your tavern, kill everyone inside not via malice but because they are literally made of fire, and then one of your Dwarves will tell them about a priceless artifact inside the fort, and the demon will leave and send an army to steal it, and the army will know where all your traps are because the demon memorized them on his visit.

The reason I added it as a caption to the vampire image was because vampires are a thing in game and players are routinely prone to weaponizing their particular quirks. Vampires infiltrate your fort, posing as a migrant, and feed on your citizens. They never age, eat, drink, or sleep. This leads players to walling captured vampires into boxes and making them do things like keep records of everything in your fort, operate levers that control the defense systems of the fort like floodgates or bridges, or validate work orders to automate industry. Most galaxy brained, though, are the players who trap a vampire in an isolated wing of the fort, draft them into the military, and have them spend eternity walking a patrol route that operates a fully functional Turing machine made from pressure plate traps.

It is a wild game with a passionate fanbase filled to the brim with outlandish stories and amazingly creative if ghoulish solutions to problems. If you wanna go in dry it just got an updated release on Steam that has a UI that isn't basically operated via terminal, or if you wanna just observe some of the madness, look up "Boatmurdered" or watch Kruggsmash's videos.

[stainedglasstruth]

If you or someone you know are involved in the mining operations around town or have information about anything surrounding the mining accident, the seismic activity that's been occurring, the new mine entrances that keep popping up, or how the mineral abnormality might factor into any of this, I ask that you please get in contact with me at ardenhan@somethingwickednews.com.

Alternatively, you can contact me or send an anonymous tip through here.

Thank you.

EDIT: As a reminder, please stay out of the mines. Authorities are working with the mine owners to clean up and assess any structural damages after the accident. It is not safe to be in the mines right now. And if you see any new holes popping up, please contact the WRPD or the Park Rangers who are doing their best to rope them off and make sure no one gets injured. Stay safe, everyone!

[piperxnoel]

PART 1: THE BASICS

• What is your full name?

Piper Noelle Harrington-Cruz

• Where and when were you born?

In Rhode Island on December 8th.

• Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Adoptive Parents: Deshaun(👼🏾) and Chauncey Harrington. Married 28 years. Had custody of Piper since she was born.

Biological Parents: Michael and Valencia Vergara. Married 30 years.

Deshaun was a Professor of English at NYU before retiring at 38. After which she returned to her Salon business as a stylist and owner. She also helped Piper run her business until her untimely death. Her mom was a fun loving, energetic woman with a fiery attitude and optimistic disposition. she was young at heart, supportive and an amazing mom and glamma.

Chauncey is a business owner. In his lifetime, he has owned several businesses. From a car dealership and car wash, to a barber shop, and a few fast food franchises. He has always had several sources of income. Currently his main occupation is that of a property investor. He is a quiet man with little to say, has a strong sense of humility and strives to be the best at everything he can. Around his daughters, he’s very comical, always joking and sharing stories of his past with them. He’s very protective and vigilant when it comes to his girls.

Michael is a lawyer and a doting father to his two girls. Though he’s only known Piper for the past 7 years, he has built a loving relationship with her and her children. Valencia is a doctor. She is very sweet and caring, but also no nonsense. She and Piper have struggled with building a strong bond but the two love one other very much.

• Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Piper has 4 siblings. 1 older sister, Lauren Vergara(strong, determined, but guarded and stubborn) and 3 younger siblings, Yessica, Annabella, and Zalena. All of her younger siblings are similar in personality. They are all quite like Piper and very close knit.

• Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

Piper lives in a Modern Mansion in Los Angeles with her sister and best friend, Sarai and their 4 kids.

• What is your occupation?

Like her father, Piper is a serial entrepreneur and owns several beauty based businesses. Currently she owns and operates 2 salons, a spa, and is in the process of building her medical Spa which is set to host its grand opening in the Spring. She also owns a cosmetics company, lash extensions line and is working on her own line of hair care products and extensions. She co-owns a food truck with her ex husband and son but only manages the books for the company. The business is for her son and he is the only one of the three who profits from the company.

• Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

Piper is 5’2, weighs 163, is mixed race(black, white, dominican), has long black hair and brown eyes. She likes to dress stylish, often times going through different trendy looks, but adding her own twist. She has several tattoos, the most important ones are the times of her children’s births on her ankle and arm.

• To which social class do you belong?

Piper is currently apart of the upper class but has been apart of both the lower and middle class before.

• Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

No.

• Are you right- or left-handed?

Right.

• What does your voice sound like?

Sweet, modulated, and melodic on a normal day with a bit of raspiness when she’s sick or has been crying or yelling or overly excited.

• What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

Girlll, Child, love bug, babes, hey boo, bitchhhhh, and please leave me the fuck alone are the most common.

• What do you have in your pockets?

Nothing. I carry a purse. I keep my wallet, phone, make up, gloss/lipstick, and protection from weirdos with me at all times.

• Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

None that I can think of.

PART 2: GROWING UP

* How would you describe your childhood in general?

Pipes had a great childhood. In the beginning, her parents struggled to conceive and adopted her in the years after taking in Piper, they fell on hard times, but were able to bounce back relatively quickly. Her parents never let Piper or her younger sister see their struggles. They often went back and forth between Rhode Island and New York. Her parents covered her, protecting her from seeing how bad things were. Eventually, when they were in a better postion, her parents filled her childhood with beautiful memories of family time at amusement parks, trips, and more. She was very loved and taken care of.

* What is your earliest memory?

Piper’s earliest memory is

* How much schooling have you had?

* Did you enjoy school?

* Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

* While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

* While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

* As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

* As a child, what were your favorite activities?

* As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

* As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

* When and with whom was your first kiss?

* Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

* Who has had the most influence on you?

* What do you consider your greatest achievement?

* What is your greatest regret?

* What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

* Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

* When was the time you were the most frightened?

* What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

* If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

* What is your best memory?

* What is your worst memory?

[follow-up-news]

Big Lots, the beleaguered discount retailer that previously warned it had “substantial doubt” about its survival, has filed for bankruptcy. As part of its Chapter 11 filing, the retailer announced that private equity firm Nexus Capital Management is acquiring “substantially all” of Big Lots stores and business operations. During the process, its locations and website will remain open for shopping. “The actions we are taking today will enable us to move forward with new owners who believe in our business and provide financial stability, while we optimize our operational footprint, accelerate improvement in our performance, and deliver on our promise to be the leader in extreme value,” said Big Lots CEO Bruce Thorn in a press release. Big Lots blamed several economic factors for its bankruptcy, including high inflation and interest rates. That has led customers to change their purchasing behavior. They’re seeking out value – but not necessarily lower costs. That’s why dollar stores have been struggling while sales at Walmart and Amazon have been booming. It’s also why McDonald’s has been struggling while casual chains like Applebee’s have been growing.

[heathermarielocke]

Breaking Down the Factors That Affect Market Perception in Auto Transport

Market Value Over Time

Resale value is a critical factor when purchasing a vehicle, as it represents the predicted market value of a car, truck, or SUV at the time of sale. It is essential to understand that a new car that depreciates faster than its competitors can lead to a lower trade-in value, potentially costing the owner more in the long run if they owe more than the vehicle's worth on a long-term loan. According to Kelley Blue Book's Best Resale Value Awards, vehicles that maintain the highest 5-year residual values, expressed as a percentage of their original Manufacturer's Suggested Retail Price (MSRP), are recognized for their ability to retain value. These awards are determined by experienced automotive analysts who utilize extensive data, including millions of transactions, vehicle specifications, economic conditions, and auction results, to predict and track vehicle depreciation effectively.

Brands like Lexus and Audi consistently rank near the top for value retention in the luxury segment, indicating that these vehicles are likely to depreciate less over time compared to others.

Conversely, brands such as Jaguar, Land Rover, and Volvo may struggle with maintaining high resale values, especially when compared to high-volume models like the Honda Civic or Toyota Sienna.

Brand Prestige and Consumer Perception

Brand perception significantly influences a vehicle's market value and resale potential. Consumers' perceptions are shaped by direct and indirect experiences with the brands, and this perception influences their decision-making process.

For instance, Lexus is often seen as the epitome of high resale value, which enhances its appeal among luxury buyers who consider future trade-in values.

On the other hand, mainstream car buyers who have experienced strong resale values with brands like Honda or Toyota may find the depreciation rates of luxury brands like Jaguar or Volvo less appealing.

The automotive industry's perception is also affected by factors such as safety, reliability, and operating costs. Dramatic events, such as Toyota's large-scale recalls, have been shown to impact brand perception negatively, affecting resale values.

Conversely, brands that manage to maintain strong safety reputations, like Volvo, despite challenges, can sustain their position in the market.

However, as consumer preferences evolve and more brands begin to excel in multiple categories, the perceived difference between top car brands and challengers is diminishing, making the competition for high resale value more intense.

In summary, understanding the factors that influence resale value and consumer perceptions can guide consumers in making informed purchasing decisions that consider both immediate benefits and long-term financial implications.

Making the Right Choice for Your Needs

Assessing Personal Needs and Preferences

When selecting the right vehicle for city driving, it is crucial to assess personal needs and preferences thoroughly. One should consider how the vehicle aligns with their lifestyle, budget, and driving conditions they frequently encounter.

For individuals residing in urban areas, factors like vehicle size, maneuverability, and fuel efficiency take precedence. Compact cars with a tight turning radius are particularly advantageous in cities, where parking spaces are scarce, and streets are narrow.

Understanding one's commitment to vehicle maintenance is essential. A car is not merely a tool for transportation; it reflects one's responsibility and care. Regular maintenance such as timely oil changes and adherence to service schedules extends the lifespan of the vehicle and ensures reliable performance. Prospective buyers should ponder whether they are prepared to maintain a luxury car, which often requires more attention and higher costs, or if an affordable, reliable model better suits their practical needs.

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