#russia is rotting from within

[tomorrowusa]

Policing in Russia has not exactly been great – and it's getting worse.

Russia has one of the largest police forces in the world, employing over 900,000 officers to serve a population of 146 million, according to the Russian Ministry of Internal Affairs. It has nearly 630 officers per 100,000 people - more than double the US or the UK. But in August, Interior Ministry Chief Vladimir Kolokoltsev said the country had a "critical" shortage of police officers, which could affect crime rates. How can that be the case, given the sheer number of officers?

In real terms, Putin has defunded the police. You get what you pay for.

"They haven't adjusted the salary at all," a former officer from Rostov, in southwest Russia, said. "After inflation and the new prices, it's not enough." He quit to become a taxi driver. His friend, who was also a police officer, is now a courier. Both of them earn twice as much as they did as police officers. "I reached the rank of major (the equivalent to a sergeant in the UK). But still a person working at a supermarket earned more than me - hardly dangerous work. Only an idiot would join the police now," the former officer from Rostov said. [ ... ] As the number of officers drops, the pressures on those who remain increase. Former officers have told the BBC this is leading to corruption. "Officers are beating confessions out of people, inflating arrest quotas, we're seeing this all the time," says a police major from the Russian city of Tomsk. "It's only going to get worse. There will be falsification of evidence, targeted beatings, there just isn't going to be time to investigate anything properly. "You've got a lead and you need to chase it? Much simpler to drag the first suspect back to the station and beat him up, so he takes the blame."

The war in Ukraine, of course, is making things worse.

Initially, the war convinced some officers to stay in the force. Russian police officers are exempt from being called up for military duty, so some officers who were on the verge of resigning when Russia invaded Ukraine told us they kept their jobs to avoid fighting. [ ... ] But as the war rumbles on, police numbers are dwindling. The force cannot fill existing gaps - let alone recruit the 40,000 extra personnel that the Interior Ministry says is needed in Donetsk and Luhansk, areas of Ukraine that Russia partly occupies.

Russia needs more police for the areas it illegally annexed in Ukraine.

Russia predicts it will need another 42,000 officers by 2026 if it occupies further territories. For serving police officers, having an opinion about the war is simply not allowed. They are not even allowed to call it a war. "Officers must keep their mouths shut," one detective says. "We can't have personal views about the 'special military operation' - or they'll fire us." [ ... ] Interior Ministry officials from the three Russian cities of Tomsk, Yekaterinburg and Yaroslavl claim they now spend most of their time investigating and revising "endless charges against people discrediting the army". "People are always looking for an excuse to denounce someone," a former major from Tomsk says. "There's nobody around... Everyone's gone to check on some grandma who saw a curtain that looked like the Ukrainian flag.

It's like the Stalin era in Russia – people are denouncing each other for fun and profit. Every time somebody complains to the police about real or (more likely) imagined pro-Ukraine sympathies or criticism of the war, the cops need to open a new investigation which keeps them from doing more typical police work.

The police situation is yet another way Russia is rotting from within.

[blingblong55]

The sun and moon-Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

Okay, but I was on TikTok and you’re the only blog I know who really likes Makarov besides me and 🙈😭😫🥰🙈 if you know the audio, that goes like 🎶 me and the devil… walking side by side 🎵 it made me think of him and reader and just, like… idk. Becoming his queen and I just love the idea of him seeing all this (whether he saw it from the beginning or noticed it after a while/before anyone else) potential in you that no one else seemed to, and fosters that in you, making you two a power couple in your little dynasty. He may do the dirty work and have blood on his hands, but you’re just trying to do good and make the world a better place again, even if it’s by any means necessary. Idk. Maybe it’s also bc I also just love hades & persephone sm too and it also gives me the grumpy & sunshine trope as well in a way too but I thought I’d share bc I’ve been loving this thought so much 🥰😭🥰🙈 ---- F!reader, romance/fluff, established!relationship ----

A/N: making this honestly lets me be a little more creative so thank you! I just couldn't stop writing and I think this will be the best I've ever done

Russia is a place known to be cold, and really, for him this is what life is like. For you, on a different side of the world, it's more calm and beautiful.

In the world of cruelty, there exists a power couple like no other. Vladimir Makarov, feared and revered, walks the path of darkness, his hands stained with the blood of many. Yet, beside him stands y/n, his love, the queen of his heart and his guiding light. Together, they forge a new destiny, a dynasty built on strength.

He is a titan among men, commands armies with a flick of his wrist and leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. To stand in front of him, it so is in the presence of death itself yet, there is one who walks beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery and clocked in the endgame of your own making.

Y/n, they call you, a name whispered in hushed tones by those who have glimpsed her fleeting presence. To some, you're a beacon of hope, a flicker of light in the darkness, your mere presence enough to quell the storm raging within Makarov's soul. But who are you, his angel, who holds the heart of the most feared man in the world? Some say you're his queen, his equal in every way, gaze as steely as his own, resolve unshakable in the face of adversity. Others whisper of a love born from the depths of despair, forged in the fires of war, a bond that transcends time and space.

As the world trembles beneath the weight of their combined might, one thing remains certain: where there is Vladimir Makarov, there too shall be y/n, walking side by side, their destinies entwined in a dance of darkness and light, love and war.

Amid chaos and carnage that define their existence, Makarov sits by a window, looking out to the gardens. In the hazy corridors of his mind, he recalls the first time he laid eyes on you, a glimpse of beauty amidst the ugliness of war. "What's her name?" He asks one of his men. You stood before him, gaze unwavering, spirit unbroken. "Y/n, daughter of-" "go away," he says sternly and walks up to you. "As beautiful as day, Y/N," he takes your hand and kisses it. "Who are you?" Oh, that soft voice of yours that melts his cold heart. "Vladimir but you can call me Vovo," his accent rich and smooth.

There is something about you that sets you apart from the rest, that ignited a spark of curiosity within him.

"Makarov, war is on," a man walked into the room. "If you must excuse me dear, I have some…stuff to do," he walks out of the room as if it's just another typical day for him.

Days passed, and you were told to stay indoors since you didn't seem capable of winning a war, much less fighting one. And with one knock on the door, he walks inside, interrupting your train of thought. "C'mon, I'm not letting your beauty rot in this room," he says, extending his hand and you take it without doubt. "Where are we to go?" you ask.

"To battle my dear, but you'll stick beside me," he mentions, guiding you through the dark corridors.

And as he is called back to attention, the beautiful memory fades. As it fades and the present comes crashing back, Makarov is left with a sense of longing, a yearning for a time when the world was simpler, when he and you were just two souls bound together by fate. And though the scars of war may never heal, he takes solace in the knowledge that no matter what the future may hold, he will always have you by his side.

As the years go by, you two navigate the treacherous landscape of warfare. Where his iron fist strikes, you are the steady hand that holds the light for him to come back home.

You've learned a lot from him, from fighting to learning that not all his wrongs are from pure hate and cruelty.

It's a waltz, a dangerous, blood-driven waltz.

In the middle of all the turmoil in their line of work, there are moments of intimacy between you two, moments when they cast aside the weight of their burdens and simply exist in each other's presence. In those fleeting moments, they are not leaders of armies or the rulers of wars but two souls bound together by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

And though the world trembles at the sound of your names, Makarov and Y/N stand unwavering, their hearts intertwined in a dance of passion and desire. For in each other, they have found solace in a world consumed by chaos, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds them.

"Vovo?" you say comfortably in his arms. "Любимая?" (darling) "Will there be a day where this will end?" "Yes, but until then, I'll just keep holding you close," his warm lips meet your forehead.

They've said before that Makarov reigns as a formidable figure, feared and respected by all who cross his path. His domain is a world of shadows and chaos, where darkness reigns supreme and few dare to tread. You, you're a vision of beauty and grace that was consumed by war.

As yet another storm is to come, you and him stand together. "Don't ever leave me, okay?" he pleas. "Like I ever was," you smile.

In the shadows, he lurks and in the sun, you dance. No evil, no war and no man can separate you from the other.

It's beautiful, how you can be so opposite. Vladimir was midnight and you were sunshine. He preferred a dark room and a sunroom. Dark clothes covered him and you with warm and beautiful colours. It's a peculiar kind of love and it's warm. Loving the devil, loving an angel. The same story is told just like Hades and Persephone.

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[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Secrets: simon ghost riley x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of past torture, angst, implied past toxic relationship, OC mentions

@thedevillovesflowers 's OC Vitally shows up as he's woven into this story, please go check out her art of him! It's very good.

This is part of the Quiet series

You understand now why Laswell had been a little nervous to let Price take you on this mission. Kostovia wasn’t Russia but it was close enough that you couldn’t help but a little more on edge as the helo got closer to the target location.

It had only been two years since you'd been in Russia and you hadn't been close since.

"From the last intel we got, Konni Group has been finding ways to fly under the radar," Laswell had explained. "We believe that they'e using an outpost in Kostovia to do so..."

"Nothing like hitting them at their source." Ghost grunted and softly nudged you.

You pushed away your worries and looked to him across the helo. When you made eye contact, you gave him a quick smile and he nodded.

There was very little chance you'd fall back into the enemy's hands, especially when Ghost was taking overwatch. He'd fight tooth and nail to keep you with the team.

He gave you a pat on the shoulder, lingering just a couple seconds, before he was dropped off as his location.

You hid the way that warmth spread across your chest from the action and licked your lips to stop another smile from creeping across your face before the helo touched down.

"Quiet and Soap take the top floors." Price ordered and you nodded. "Gaz and I will take the bottom. Any visuals, Ghost?"

"Negative." Ghost's voice crackled in the comms.

"Stay on guard. Watch your six."

The outpost, surrounded by dense forest, looked completely empty from the outside. There were signs of life, a couple trucks and supplies scattered around the dirt, but otherwise there was no movement. There didn't even seem to be movement inside, there were no lights on despite it being the middle of the night.

You frowned but followed behind the others, keeping your sights up.

It was possible they had been tipped off, you wouldn't be surprised. Konni Group had eyes and ears everywhere, they were like rotted roots and yet thrived. The intel to get here had been gotten relatively recently, almost a little too recent for them to have packed up and left however.

You followed behind Soap as he stepped inside. Your steps were quiet as you moved towards the stairs of the building before you heard clattering behind you.

You barely had a moment to shut your eyes before the flash grenade went off with a loud bang. Your ears rang and you heard shouting before Soap pulled you to behind cover as bullets ricocheted around you.

"It's a fucking ambush." He yelled before he returned fire.

You joined him, gunning down as many of the enemies as you could see while avoiding any of the bullets. it was hard to tell how many of them their were and you hoped that you were dwindling their numbers.

"Reinforcements are coming from the north!" Ghost called in and you clenched your jaw.

They were trying to box all of you in.

"Quiet, find a way up and help Ghost." Price ordered and you signaled to him that you heard.

You fought your way through the catwalk, moving up a few more stairs and eliminating any hostiles you came across. You quickly found a room with windows facing north before you shot open one of them and grabbed your rifle to signal to Ghost.

"Got you in my sights." He said and you smiled.

You began to open fire and picked off the reinforcements with his help. Both of you moved with efficiency and as the gunfire within the building lessened and the reinforcements were dead, you signaled to Ghost in an attempt to tell him good job.

"Quiet!"

You were grabbed from behind too quick for you to react. You grunted when a fist landed against your vest right on your ribs and you struggled against your assailant. You slammed your elbow back as hard as you could and remembered all of the techniques Ghost went through when sparring with you.

However the man tighten his hold on you and slammed you on the ground, knocking the window out of you before he pinned you down.

"I know you." He laughed as a sneer pulled at his lips. "You're Vitally's girl."

You're eyes widened. Your heart dropped and began to pound against your chest as you struggled harder against him to no avail. Your mouth went dry and for a moment the man on top of you was not a stranger but Vitally.

His eyes were dark and you could see the scars across his face. He stared down at you with a fierce look of malice, a look you were forced to see for an entire year before he you finally escaped. You could taste his blood in your mouth from when you finally managed to fight back against his torture, you were finally able to harm him in same way.

The man above you chuckled darkly and you were brought back to the present.

"I've got a message for you." He taunted as he leaned close to your ear despite your best efforts. "Vitally is happy to know you're alive, he wishes you the best. He want me to tell you he'll see you again, little mysh."

You screamed and put all of your strength into pushing him off. You grabbed your knife and shoved it into his abdomen repeatedly. You knocked him to the floor and straddled him as you continued on pure survival instinct.

You only stopped when he didn't gurgle on his blood and you pushed off of him quickly. Your chest hurt and you couldn't breathe as you got tunnel vision, only focusing on the mass amounts of blood covering you.

"Quiet?" Ghost asked urgently. "How copy?"

You shut your eyes and choked back a whimper.

Vitally was back.

He had disappeared the day you escaped but struck you with fear with just the thought of him. He was a tangible threat now, using his looming presence to taunt you and he knew you were alive. You had hoped he had thought you were dead, having frozen to death in the snow but you should've known better.

He was the eyes and ears that were everywhere.

He was the key to everything. If he was caught, if he was interrogated, he would have all of the answers the 141 needed to take down Makarov but it would look suspicious.

No one knew about him, not even Laswell, and the other's who did were dead. It would put you as suspect if you told anyone about him now, especially when you had so many chances to do it, when you knew this crucial information for two years now. It would be unlikely if anyone would believe you if you told them the entire truth.

If you did you could only imagine what would happen. They might dishonorably discharge you or throw you in prison. You'd be left alone, isolated and you would suffer.

And he knew that.

This was just another way to torture you. He wanted you to live in constant fear for the day everyone would turn against you because then he would be there to pick you back up. To make himself the only one you could "rely" on if he didn't kill you first.

"Quiet." Ghost demanded and snapped you out of it.

Ghost...you could trust him with anything but this? A secret this big that would end this long war against a mass terrorist? You couldn't help but wonder if he'd see you as a traitor.

You just had to stay quiet. Do as you were told and to not "say anything." You were good at that.

You signaled to him that you were okay and stood up on shaky legs. You kept your face as neutral as possible when you walked to the window and waved at him.

The gunfire had stopped and you were left completely numb.

Tags: @buckysjuicyplums I don't think i can tag twice but @thedevillovesflowers @sleepyycatt

[criminalamnesia]

Even If It Kills Me

warnings: blood, angst, death, f!reader, callsign is ‘Angel’, not proofread

summary: a mission goes wrong.

author’s note: back with some soap angst, don’t hate me too much. also alejandro and rudy are part of the 141 because I said so.

“Angel, how copy?”

No response.

“Angel,” Soap’s voice was laced with worry, brows furrowed as he spoke into his radio. “How copy?”

Again, no response.

“Anyone have eyes on Angel?”

It was Price now, his voice gruff over the radio. Voices chimed in then– Gaz, Ghost, Alejandro, Rudy. All negative.

Soap cursed, running a hand through his damp, unruly hair. The 141 had been sent to a compound deep within the forests of Russia to apprehend an arms dealer. It should have been easy.

Ghost was up high, perched upon a rooftop with his sniper rifle at the ready. Price and Gaz were after the target. That left Soap, Rudy, Alejandro, and Angel to sweep the streets and take out any stragglers.

They had split off from each other to cover more ground. Angel had been joking– smiling and laughing before she sobered up and stepped down an alleyway.

Now, she wasn’t responding, and no one knew where she was.

“I’m gonna look for her,” Soap said into his radio, eyes scanning his surroundings as he stepped out from behind a counter. The house he had taken cover in was dilapidated. Cracks in the linoleum floors. Dust covering every surface, at least two inches thick. Windows shattered and doors missing.

“Negative, Soap.” Price was speaking again. “Stay on mission.”

“She’s missing,” Soap spoke through gritted teeth, raising his gun as he moved towards the street. “She may be hurt.”

“Or captured.” Ghost. Always the optimist.

“Complete the mission,” Price ignored the both of them. “Rescue will come in after.”

Soap didn’t reply. He was torn– follow orders, or look for her? Price had never led him astray. But she was his lover, his best friend– how could he abandon her?

“Negative, Price. I’m goin’ after her.” He made his decision, already moving to where he had last seen her before she disappeared into that alley.

No one responded on the radio. Soap knew he’d been in for it later. Even if Price wanted to look for her himself, he was bound to duty. As was Soap.

Mission first. The mission above all else.

Screw the fucking mission.

His hands were steady as he held his gun level, sweeping the streets and each building he entered with skill that earned him the call sign ‘Soap’. Fastest at cleaning house, they’d said. Getting in, getting out. Neutralizing threats. Squeaky clean.

Sweat trickled from forehead to his chin. It got in his eyes. It was salty on his lips. He ignored it in favor of thinking of her.

How she smiled at him– wide and amused. How she blushed when he swung an arm around her, or when he called her ‘lass’. How he had taken her on a date to some shit-hole bar, and she’d spent the entire night beating him at pool.

How she had pulled him into a kiss outside of that bar and acted like it was the most normal thing in the world.

They had only been together a year, but Soap knew. He knew he wanted her for the rest of his life, if she’d have him. If they made it out of their service alive. If they ever settled down.

He made his way into the next building. Another run-down house. It smelled of mildew and rain.

He cleared the downstairs, mind on autopilot. The stairs were wooden, rotted and broken in places. He moved carefully up, creaks sounding from under his feet.

A door on the left. It was cracked. He pushed it open quickly, one hand still on his gun. Scanning the area, clear.

No. Not clear.

His eyes caught on a body slumped in the corner. A man’s– probably one of the target’s men. Shot in the chest. Soap almost turned and left, but then he heard a whimper.

He crept forward, his heart hammering in his chest. Panic crept up his spine.

She was behind an overturned chair, flat on the ground. A knife was lodged deep into the side of her neck, thin trails of blood creeping out of the wound.

Soap stopped. His world stopped. His heart nearly stopped. He had found her– his Angel. But she was dying.

“Hey, hey,” his voice sounded too calm as he dropped to the floor beside her trembling frame. He holstered his gun, his hand reaching towards the knife. “It’s alrigh’ lass, I’m goin’ ta get you out of here.”

Her eyes were wide. One of her hands was at her neck, fingers spread to try and stop the blood from escaping the wound. The other shook as it raised, reaching for him. Soap grabbed her hand tightly, squeezing it so hard it had to hurt.

“Stay with me, hen. Y’hear me?” He was nodding his head, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

His free hand reached for his radio, fingers slightly shaking as he pressed the talk button.

“We need medevac immediately. Angel’s down– I repeat, Angel’s down.”

Voices chattered over the radio, but Soap couldn’t hear them. All he could hear were her small noises of pain. Tears streamed from her eyes. Soap gently wiped them away, leaning his head down closer to her.

Red spotted her lips. Blood trickled from her chin. She was drowning in her own blood. She couldn’t breathe.

“You’re goin’ ta be okay, you hear me?” His voice was low. He hoped he didn’t look as terrified as he felt. “Jus’ hold on, okay? Hold on.”

She nodded as much as she could. Her hand still clutched his. He wanted to scream. He wanted to kill the bastard that did this to her ten times over. He wanted to curse Price for splitting them up. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

He wanted her to live.

“When we get out of here, let’s settle down, aye? You an’ me. Maybe get a dog. Big yard. In some countryside far away from here.”

Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but all that came out was a gurgling sound as she choked on her own blood. She coughed, red spraying across his face. He gripped her hand tighter as his free one came up and ran through her matted hair.

“You an’ me, hen. Jus’ you an’ me. So don’t go, okay? You gotta stay with me now, alrigh’?”

He leaned his head down further, pressing his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes tight, as if he could will this away. As if he could make her stay here with him.

He didn’t move until someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Johnny,” it was Ghost. “It’s time to go.”

He opened his eyes to meet hers. They were closed. That’s when he realized that her hand was limp in his. She was dead.

She was dead, and there was nothing he could do. There would never be a house in the countryside with a big yard and dog for him, because she was dead. What was the point if he couldn’t share that with her?

“Johnny.” Ghost again, his hand tightening on Soap’s shoulder.

Soap inhaled shakily, slowly moving away from her. The knife was still lodged in her throat. A pool of blood had formed around her head, soaking her hair in some kind of sick halo. She was so pale.

“How long?” Soap asked, not bothering to turn his head.

“Ten since you called for evac. She was dead nine minutes ago.”

He inhaled. The copper smell of blood filled his nostrils. It was a smell he’d grown used to– but now it made his stomach turn.

“We’re taking her with us.” It was a statement, not a request. Ghost nodded, even though Soap’s attention was still on her.

He slowly brought the hand still clutched in his up to his lips, brushing his mouth over her pale knuckles. She’d always laughed when he did that.

“Such a gentleman,” she would giggle.

He ached to hear that laugh again.

He released her hand and pushed himself off the floor.

[rocketyship]

Look at the war

(can also maybe apply to the main timeline if you want)

(Very rough/sketch of the idea, mainly showing the places of the AM megastructures and honey-combs)—Takes place the height of the war—

During the war many countries fell/surrendered and got absorbed into the larger powers. Listing the different areas/territories by colour (all super brief here):

Blue — USA (new name not decided, give a suggestion if you want), was very quick to take over Canada and a large portion of South America. The AM megastructures tend to be the largest and most complex on their main land, even where the structure isn’t directly, large pipes and cables all throughout the country are visible. Due to this, a rapid industrialisation has happened and there are very few rural areas left. America’s population (like most of the other places) is also experiencing a decline. The air is extremely polluted and when close to the megastructures it’s said that the smell of burning and rotting flesh is very potent. The remaining population either remains constantly inside, moving around through tunnels, or permanently underground in the new lower cities. Notably radical religious organisations have become more frequent due to the war, mostly due to people supposedly disappearing in their sleep without a trace.

Red— Russia has the largest Megastructure, however due to this, it faces the most attacks. One structure notably, was built small in the ocean yet over time it grew and built itself and the area around it up, creating a false floating continent. However it is due to its creation that a large population of sea life has been erratic and floods that wiped out many coastal cities and communities. Much like America very few rural areas remain, and due to extreme climate change caused by the war, the area faces even harsher and year long winters that have spread to the rest of Europe.

Yellow— China. The AMs (CAM) are very close together here and have been designed in such a way that people are able to live within them. Due to their general closeness to each other they tend to function better in self-protection than the other AMs. It is constantly building, more and more structures as opposed to constantly developing a single one. Within China a few rural and farming communities have been preserved, however due to such a fact, those areas in particular have become targets—especially to RAM.

Orange— These are actively hostile territories (well everywhere is hostile), but life is still found. Camps are usually found scattered, yet still alined to one of the powers. Mostly these are unclaimed territories that are being fighted for.

Grey— Dead zones. Areas so destroyed and ruined by the war that they near uninhabitable and been stripped dry of resources. This is where most of the fighting has happened, in what used to be Central Europe. Majority of the people who were there are dead or have been displaced (mostly in Russia and China, with the luckier ones making it to the Common Wealth of Southern Africa) The remaining people are scattered and can be found within underground shelters. These shelters are horrific places, with few supplies, little food, and constant sickness. The people are actively hunted by all the AMs. Notably Naomi is from one of these bunkers, having been forced into one at the age of two. Nimdok too (when he was alive alreast).

Green— The commonwealth of Southern Africa (previously the African Commonwealth) A bit after the war began (post 1994) many African nations merged diplomatically in order to better conserve resources better and to be a better neutral force. However as the war progressed more and more of the continent was over taken. However in the process the remaining state has become a power in of its own. Creating a defences that work efficiently to keep the AMs out. It was chosen to sanction themselves from the world and the war. Truly wanting no part in it. Eventually Australia did join, before half was taken, but the remainder acts as a port and outlook. This is one of the few areas were “regular” human society is still found, with there being heavy laws and propaganda meant to block out information of the war. Previously they had been very open to refugees, however they would begin to refuse them as it had opened opportunities to the AMs. Ellen and Evan are both from here. Gorrister also hides within it, however he smuggles himself in and out constantly, as being a member of the peace core, he has work to do all over the remaining world.

Where everyone is from including the survivors of the og and love au:

—Gorrister from England however he fled to America, then to COSA, and eventually to Russia where he would help develop the BE virus.

-Ted, Tiffany, and Gloria are all from the USA, however Ted is an average citizen, Tiffany is a member of one of the religious groups, and Gloria is a high ranking military commander, government official and one of the reasons of AM’s existence.

-(idk where Benny is from, can’t decide lol, same with Becky)

-Nimdok and Naomi are from different parts of Europe but both find themselves in the survival bunkers

-Ellen and Evan (being siblings) are from COSA, being born where Zimbabwe used to be. Evan however would go onto explore the rest of the state, mainly in the area where South Africa had once been. Ellen would stay closer to home. (Reason as to why is that in the original and audio drama, Ellen frequently refers to life before AM, and rarely mentions the war, which could mean she either doesn’t think about it or knows very little of it)

(There’s like no world lore in the og and whilst that is kinda the point, I just wanted to build on it a little. Will be posting some concept art for this stuff soon. As usual if you have ideas or suggestions please share)

[cinewhore]

From Russia, With Love

Pairing: Captain Jonathan “John” Price x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: fighting (reader is a boxer), blood, explosives, coma, angst. Reader is roughly the same age as Price, I don’t do age gaps! If I missed something, let me know. 

A/N: Finally getting hip to the COD boys! Reader is referred to as “Memphis” which is the name that was given to her while serving with the 141. I have plans for these two teehee. Also dropped in an Oberyn reference! dedicated to @mikeisthricedeceased  & @pettyprocrastination Hope y'all enjoy. Credits to the gif creator.

You wish they would kill you already.

You’ve been in this position for at least two hours, hands tied at the wrist, strung up like a goddamn piñata. You try your best to keep one pointed toe on the ground to help with your fluctuating shifting of weight.

The people responsible for you at the moment circle around you like piranhas, their thirst for blood knowing no end.

“You’re stronger than you look.” the bald one mutters, voice rasped by a long nasty habit of smoking. You hang your head as he approaches, wrinkling your nose against the stench of his warm breath. He rears back and punches you in the stomach again, sending you for a small spin. The ropes tug and burn your skin, the calloused material leaving your wrists rubbed raw.

The other man sits towards the back of the room, watching. It’s all that he did. He never interacted with you, letting the others get their hands dirty for him instead. You could hear the clinking of ice in his glass, a rather calming sound in comparison to the broken moans that slipped out of you as you continued to be pummeled. The ice clinks again once more and the glass is sat down, signifying the man's own interest in the events unfolding in front of him. He waves his head and the bastard gets one more lick at you before he retreats.

You cough and sputter, blood steadily trickles down the side of your mouth. The head honcho finally rises out of his seat and makes his way towards you, hands clasped firmly behind his back. He takes one of his index fingers to lift your chin up, eyes penetrating the depths of your soul. You’ve been in plenty of situations where you gave death the bird and paraded around without a single care for your life but this, this was different.

For once in your life, you were afraid of what the outcome would be.

“You are one with the infamous one-four-one, no?”

You nod weakly.

“You are one with me now. I own you. Do you understand?”

Silence.

“You are a fighter and I admire that. Not once did you break your loyalty to your team but yet, you landed here in my lap. Nearly left one of my men for dead. A silly little boxing game! I can take you to the big leagues, get you out of the gutter you were rotting away in. We can make some big cash, you and me. Just do what I say, when and how I say.”

He does something that scares you more than anything. You were expecting a hard slap, maybe even another punch but no. He kisses your cheek softly and leaves. Within a blink, you were cut down from your post and hoisted up by the others, all careful not to agitate your wounds. You had been inducted into a mob and didn’t even know it.

- TWO YEARS LATER -

It’s the fucking bout of the century.

The crowd sounds like the angry wrath of the sea, a constant white noise in your ear. That is, if you could fucking hear out of the left one. You had taken a hit to the side of your head and you were sure you were concussed but adrenaline kept you up on both feet.

Your mouth is pried open by your cornerman, Usov, who squirts some liquid into it before shutting it. You tilt your head back, swishing it around before spitting it out in the bucket shoved in front of your face. The once clear liquid was now rinsed red. His hands are steady as he tries his best to patch you up, your chief second spewing strategy in half broken english.

“I can’t hear you.” you mutter, wincing when Usov touches a particularly tender area.

“What?”

You point to your left ear. “Can’t fucking hear you.”

Solomin sighs but lowers himself in front of you, angling himself towards your right side. “Better?”

You nod. “Better.”

“You can beat this one, eh? You’re pulling your punches! That is not what I teach you.What should’ve been a clean knock from start, last too long. What are you scared of?”

Failure.

“She’s too quick.” you lie through your teeth, knowing that Solomin could see right through it.

“Yes, she is quick but you are quicker. She’s aiming for your left side because that is where you’re the weakest now. You must use that to your advantage and strike back twice as hard. You are the Red Viper! Never lost a match and now is not the time to start.”

Solomon grabs you by the back of your neck and you force your eyes off of the lights and your opponent in the adjacent corner. “Remember what it took to get here. The position we are both in. Death comes first.”

You didn’t need to turn around to know whose eyes were boring into your back. The whole reason you were here. A rumor spread that he put half a billion dollars on your head for tonight's match.

You could not lose. Too many things were at steak.

The bell tolls and Usov and Solomin give final words of wisdom before you're thrusted up off your stool and back into the ring.  

Nodding your head furiously, you begin prancing along on your feet, smashing your boxing gloves together in a steady rhythm.

The boss smirks as he senses a burst of energy in you, knowing that you were gonna bring it home to glory. The cigar he puffs on rests gently between his fingers, other hand preoccupied by the drumming of his digits. He could smell the copious amounts of cash you were gonna rake in for him and he desperately needed a vacation to the beach. Russian winters weren’t his favorite.

The ref signals for the next round to start and you’re off. You buzz around the ring like it's nobody's business, landing hit after hit. The crowd goes crazy as you corner your opponent, striking her viciously. The Red Viper never gives up until its prey is defeated.

But today, the Red Viper gets a surprise attack.

You do the one thing you were told to never do and that’s look into the crowd. Even for a millisecond, you shift your focus and gaze up. It’s almost as if your body had been taken over, forcing you to give in to curiosity.

Jonathan Price stands smack dab in the middle of a section, beanie low and chiseled arms crossed against his chest. He sees you and knows that you see him. A mistake so fatal you knew you were done before the moment passed.

A glove crashes into your face, hard, and you are down for the count.

Everyone in the crowd stumbles up to their feet, swarming into a frenzy. The once mysterious now beloved fighter was on the ground for the first time in her entire career. This was not good for business.

One.

You attempt to steady your breathing, eyes glossed over in a hypnotic haze. With a few slow blinks, the ring had vanished. You were laying on the ground amidst rubble, body emitting a low throb. Your brain kept signaling to the rest of your body that you were in danger but you couldn’t react.

“She’s over here!” you could hear the accent of Soap as he began to hurl slabs of concrete out of the way, creating a path that led straight to you.

Two.

Your head was supported as hands grabbed at you, lifting you from what you thought your final resting place would be. You were trying hard to form words but could not get your mouth to cooperate. It was as if you were weightless, floating aimlessly among the dark sky. In reality you were being carried by Soap and Gaz, who had taken you to the waiting chopper that was now clearing ground and  transporting your team to safety.

You thought you had enough time to clear the explosive but you just weren’t fast enough and caught the brunt of it.

Three.

You waver in and out of consciousness, the various faces of your team pleading for you to stay with them. You wanted to! They were your family, your safe haven and backbones. You’d take a bullet for each and every one of them. You didn’t expect the bullet to be a goddamn rocket launcher.

The injuries were extensive. The medic was sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk again, much less be mobile on your own. He expected you to make a lengthy recovery if you ever came out of a coma. Days turned into weeks and that slipped into months.

Work never ceased. The boys felt terrible leaving your side but they knew that they couldn’t sit around and wait for your eyes to open, if they ever did. Price was hit the most, an unspoken thing between the two of you. He showed no sign of emotion when others were around but when it was just the two of you, he poured his heart out. He urged you to wake up, to return back to him and the 141.

You never did.

Four.

He was leading a mission in Mexico when you woke up. He didn’t receive the message until a week after and when he returned, you were gone. Upon asking the medic where you went, the poor fellow just shrugged.

“What do you mean you don’t know where she went?”

“I already told you. She was awake, given clearance to continue her healing at home, some guy came to pick her up and she vanished.”

Some guy. Your brother.

You kept your familial background to yourself but had let Price know that you had an older brother who stayed in trouble. He was too smart for his own and that often caused him to get into situations he could never really quite get out of.

Five.

He knew that if he probed enough, he could find out your whereabouts but knew you. If you wanted him to know where you were, you would’ve told him. So, he waited. And waited. 

Six.

Your eyes roll around as you regain some sort of composure, legs shaking as you push yourself up off the ground.

“Holy shit.” Solomin whispers as the ref checks in with you quickly before jumping out of the way of your opponent. You smack your glove against your head, trying to get your head straight before you entered hell again.

The ref waves his head and you are back in the throes of war, clinging onto any semblance of hope left.

Your opponent swaggers over to you with a smug look on her face, certain that with another good hit or two, you’d be on your ass for good. You match her energy and smile widely, bloodied mouth and split lips creating a ghastly image. The Red Viper was no longer here, she was now replaced by a dead woman walking.

The hot water stings as you stand underneath the flow of the cascading shower. After a brief examination, you learn the outcome of the fight. You suffered a concussion, temporary hearing loss in your left ear, bruised ribs and cheekbone swelling along with the usual cuts and bruises. Pretty chill for such a huge occasion. You’re easy with yourself as you slowly wander back into your locker room, Solomin and Usov conversing quietly.

You had zero intentions of interacting with the cameras and groupies that awaited you beyond the doors, wanting to go home and fall victim to your bed. You knew that you had to remain alert for a few more hours given your injuries and Solomin normally stuck with you through them.

“You look like hell.” Your coach grins and you shrug him off, dropping your towel to the ground. Solomin turns his back to you as you manage to slip on a shirt and loose shorts, rolling your neck around.

“Been there and it’s honestly not as bad as it seems.” you reply, groaning as you flex a muscle in your arm.

“I hear the boss is very happy. He wants to celebrate tonight.”

You give Solomin a look and he nods, wringing his hands together. You weren’t one for the nightlife and knew that partying with the man who wagered such a high bet on your life wasn’t the best idea. Besides, you were in no shape to be around throngs of people and loud music.

“Maybe some other time, hm? I’d like to crash if that’s ok with you.”

“Doctor says you must rest for a minute,” Usov cuts in. “Are you hungry? I can get us some kebabs. We can eat here and wait for the people to leave.”

You honestly couldn’t stomach anything but nodded politely at Usov’s suggestion. He claps his hands together, patting you softly on the back as he exits the room. As he leaves, he passes by two individuals, brushing shoulders with one.

“Извини́.” Excuse me.

A guard stands at the entrance to your room and holds a hand out as the two men approach.

“No fans past the barrier. Fuck off.”

Price looks at the masked man beside him. “We’re here for a business proposition, per the boss's orders.”

The men looked extremely American, or at least not in the slightest bit Russian, to him and his stance falters. Their accents weren’t American though and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“We’re comrades of the fighter.”

“You’re not friends unless she says you are.” the guard retorts. So much for a smooth plan.

The door behind the guard swings open and Solomin steps out, a cigarette in his hand. He knew you dislike smoking and walked out to indulge in his habit. You feel that sinking feeling return to your stomach and you glance at the door, spotting Price and Ghost being hassled by the guard.

The guard turns to you, clearly flustered. “Do not worry, I will get rid of them.” He assures you but you motion at him to stop. Solomin can tell something is amiss by your cagey stance and lingers, awaiting your instruction.

You stare at the two men from your past, millions of memories flashing through your brain vividly. You had half a mind to tell them to kiss your ass, to have them sent away but once again, your inquisitive side wins.

“Let them in.”

You jerk your head at Solomin who continues on his quest to smoke. The guard makes way and your old teammates enter your locker room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Ghost stands back as Price draws near. Your breathing quickens at his scent, causing your throat to tighten.

“Hello, Memphis.”

[zorkaya-moved]

DIRECTORY: 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘.

[banner in the making]

DO YOU RAGE, APOSTLE? I don't. DO YOU WISH TO LIVE, APOSTLE? I don't. DO YOU WANT TO DIE, APOSTLE? I do. ARE YOU READY TO DIE NOW, APOSTLE? I am not. WHY? Because a promise made in the Land of Origin is my oath, and my oath is sacred. The only holy part of me that's left without rot.

DO YOU STILL HEAR THE VOICES OF THE PAST? I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟ d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞, t͖͖̠̬͛h̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧy͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́ n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅt͖͖̠̬͛o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗.

Zarina Sokolova was once known as the epitome of leadership, the very person who led heroes and soldiers against the greatest enemy of humanity at that point - Honkai. But she, too, just like the rest of those who were called the Thirteen Flamechasers, have flew too close to the sun and burned her wings. One of the genius pillars back in MOTHs, she became one of the victims who have fallen before the threat of Honkai... by becoming the enemy and destroyer of civilization - a Herrscher, a Sovereign of Ice. However, her fate granted her the ability to fight and to resist.

Resilience became her EGO, survival became her ORIGIN as she underwent countless trials to withstand the tragic fate bestowed upon her.

As she prayed to creation, grasping onto threads of humanity while fighting the otherworldly invader inside her own mind and body, she would be [disciplined] by the god's butterfly to create absence of pain (Aponia) and then tested further by the snake (Mobius) from the Gardens of Eden. Finally, when experiments on the lab table have been concluded and her shattered psyche continued to cling to life and existence, a gentle hand of the holy spirit (Elysia) would touch her forehead and a whisper of a gentle encouragement would let her close her eyes for a moment.

Your Herrscher core will act as salvation for those who want to continue on.

She was the teacher of the humanity's last hero. She was one of the leaders of humanity to fight against Honkai. She was the older sister. And, finally, she was the failure. A failure who was one of the stepping stones for Honkai to to descend full-force, taking more close friends and close allies but none of them were as 'fortunate' to retain their humanity (but is it a curse or a blessing: to live, to persist, to be unable to die?).

But was it the end? No. The humanity had fallen and the cycle was restarted. Only now, faced with the restarted cycle of humanity, Zarina Sokolova stood by those who were left behind: the last of the Previous Era's heroes. Kevin, Su, Fu Hua. The last of the greatest. They agreed to turn this time into something different, into something worth living for. And so, the woman who was both a leader and a failure ventured to restart a culture, a race. Kiev, Russia, the Empire, the Federations... She was the progenitor of the north and its northern countries, the leader and the empress, the witch and the goddess of winter and death (Morana), the folklore tale and the reality of ruling.

Fifty thousand years. For fifty thousand years she yearned, but the journey was wearing her down while only the [discipline] kept her from turning into a destroyer, a monster once again. The only place where peace would find her would be within Elysian Realm where her comrades still exist in their holographic versions, powered by the sacrifice of the butterfly. Even then, the whispers in the back of her mind would always scream, intensifying:

I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟ W̧̤̤͇̣̥͂͐A̳̳̹̟̋ͣ͌ͅN͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇T̼̼̖̾͟͞ T̼̼̖̾͟͞Ơ̷̴̪̪̝͈̥͈̆̀̚ D̷̨̥̥̥͖̞͐ͮ̄I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡, Ļ͓͓̣̽͟E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡T̼̼̖̾͟͞ M͚͚̻͂̇͜͟͟E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡ D̷̨̥̥̥͖̞͐ͮ̄I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡; Ļ͓͓̣̽͟E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡T̼̼̖̾͟͞ T̼̼̖̾͟͞H͇͇̹͊ͪ́̕ͅI̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟S̢̼̼͖̺͖ͪ E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡N͔͔̥̺̞̿͊̇D̷̨̥̥̥͖̞͐ͮ̄.

Even that was taken away as the Elysian Realm is brought down, her legs rushed to deliver her to bid farewell only to be swallowed in the destroyed place to awaken within the land of Origin before the Holy Spirit of a maiden who sacrificed herself to let them walk the Earth once more.

𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

o1. The short description of Zarina's current HSR verse. o2. Expansion on the story of Zarina Sokolova in HSR after her departure from Elysian Realm. o3. Apostles of Origin: A deeper dive into who they are and what their mission is. o4. History with IPC: Diamond('s) Shackles, Jade('s) Necklace, Opal('s) Ring. The story of 3 Stonehearts and the hidden lore behind them. 05. Deal With Diamond: He killed her thrice and paid the price. The ownership of the Interstellar Casino, the work behind the scenes, and the current relationship with the elusive Diamond. o6. Reputation: What can your character know about Zarina? Do they know her as an Apostle or do they know her as IPC's guard dog? OR do they know her as a newly appointed owner of the casino? This is where it becomes clear. o7. Blessing of Origin and Discipline's Collar: How does Elysia's blessing of Origin and Aponia's Discipline keep Zarina stable after experiments, 50k+ years, and continuous attack on her mind from the Herrscher persona.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Favorite candy (allies)

America: Al lives for hard candies; anything from butterscotch to jolly ranchers will make this man’s hard day just a little better. Though he can never just suck on these teeth-breaking rocks, instead he chews them. Smiling when people shudder at the sound of crunching hard sugar.

Canada: Mattie Boi is a little stereotypical in his candy preferences. He likes maple-flavored candies, doesn’t matter if it’s a hard candy or a soft piece of chocolate he’ll enjoy it. If you wanted to really win him over, then give him the maple equivalent of salted caramel.

France: François doesn’t find sweets appealing due to their dullness from the constant nicotine use. Though there is one exception, and that would be suckers. In places where he can’t light his cancer stick, he’ll pull one of those out to help with the cravings.

England: Sweetness for Ollie Pop is an acquired taste, especially since he prefers the savory flavors of ‘exotic’ meats. To break the tooth-rotting tingles of the crystalline sugars, Oliver will happily munch on sour candies.

Russia: Like Oliver, Viktor doesn’t like sweet things. Unlike the Englishman, there are no exceptions to his palate. He takes his coffee black, tea unsweetened and desserts left untouched.

China: Over the centuries there has only been one type of candy that has held Jin’s appreciation. Gum: fruity, spicey, and even minty are all found within his home. Jin likes gum enough to mix and match different flavors. Even though he is big enough to admit not all flavors work together, his current favorite combination is spearmint with cinnamon.

[itsagrimm]

If Eurovision was a thing in Star Wars

tumblr is truly the to only place where this could ever exist. to get rid of the brain rot and bc I talked to a friend about the lack of pop culture within Star Wars here a list of which participating country would correspond to which planet.

---

UK - clearly that's Coruscant. It's an imperial center and they try to make it all about themselves while serving less of a show than they are capable of. like sweetie. darling. you have so much better. why are you playing it safe and holding back?

Germoney - Scipio, home of the banking clan. As one of the main funders of the whole party they qualify per default and it tends to be as uninspiring as a balancing sheet unless they send a girl singing about love and peace.

Azerbaijan - Tatooine. It's far away from the typical participating countries but it kind of works, even wining once.

Ukraine - Naboo. They are just serving every time. How are they doing this?

Switzerland - probably Alderaan. It feels sophisticated and fine. Like okay. But who is here for that? also - mountains.

Australia - Mars? idk. The question is rather why are they here?

Norway, Sweden, Denmark - Mandalore, Concordia, Concord Dawn in whatever order. They are not exactly the same but they give off similar vibes. and that vibe is slay.

Iceland - Mustafar. Yes. bc of Hatari. And bc of volcanic activity.

Poland - Chandrilla. A solid one with lots of cool entires that deserve a win but also in the grand scheme of things get's overlooked a lot.

Russia - Csilla. Is not participating.

Serbia - Corellia. Delivers groundbreaking contributions it's honestly surprising they weren't there from the beginning. Also the industrial aesthetics check out.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Inside the 'irregular warfare' campaign fascists are conducting against America

Thom Hartmann

June 5, 2024 9:48AM ET

Trump lies that the guilty verdict against him — by a jury of his peers that his own attorneys picked — is an illegitimate, politically motivated show trial.

Trying to help Trump destroy Americans’ faith in our democracy and its justice system, Russian president Vladimir Putin’s spokesman today said of Trump’s trial:

“If we speak about Trump, the fact that there is simply the elimination, in effect, of political rivals by all possible means, legal and illegal, is obvious.”

Hungary’s dictator Viktor Orbán and Italy’s neofascist Deputy Prime Minister, Matteo Salvini, both also argued that Trump is the victim of political persecution.

Right wing media commentators and Republicans in Congress have leaped at the opportunity to echo Putin and Orbán.

This sort of propaganda is called “irregular warfare” (IW) — warfare by means outside of troops, bombs, navies, etc. — and the US used to be an expert at it. Typically, irregular warfare involves the use of propaganda, proxies, or people willing to betray their own country.

READ: Liberals are being way too cynical about Trump's conviction

Irregular warfare is part of how the US and western Europe brought down the Soviet Union (although that system also disintegrated from within under the weight of its own corruption and rot), with propaganda systems like the Voice of America, Radio Liberty, and Radio Free Europe.

A keen observer of this process was an irregular warfare leader based in East Germany at the time. Lieutenant Colonel Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin supervised spying and propaganda operations within East Germany until the fall of the Berlin Wall, when he moved to Moscow where, in 1999, he became the head of the Russian government and is now the longest-serving Russian leader since Stalin.

Having been on the receiving end of US and western European propaganda efforts, Putin dedicated himself to turning the tables on us, since the democratic example of America (and other western nations) is a thorn in his autocratic side. And he’s had considerable success, including helping get his man Trump into the White House where Donald then handed a western spy over to Putin’s Foreign Minister Lavrov in a secret Oval Office meeting during his first month in office.

Two months later, US intelligence had to pull another spy out of Russia because they had evidence Trump had given his name to Putin as well. Trump may well represent the single most successful irregular warfare program Putin has ever run against America.

On July 31, 2019, as Trump was ramping up his 2020 campaign, he had another of what by that time were more than 16 private, unrecorded conversations with Putin. The White House told Congress and the press that they discussed “wildfires” and “trade between the nations.” No droids in this car.

The following week, on August 2nd, The Daily Beast’s Betsy Swan reported that Trump had just asked the Office of the Director of National Intelligence for a list of all its employees (including all our “spies” across the world) who had worked there more than 90 days, and the request had intelligence officials experiencing “disquiet.”

Fourteen months later, The New York Timesran a story with the headline: “Captured, Killed or Compromised: C.I.A. Admits to Losing Dozens of Informants.” The CIA then alerted American spies around the world that their identities had probably been compromised, apparently by President Donald Trump himself.

Also in 2019, when the international press verified that Putin was paying the Taliban bounties to kill American service members in Afghanistan (and 4 had already died as a result), Trump refused to demand the practice stop, another possible sign that Putin ran him, not the other way around.

As The New York Times noted at the time:

“Mr. Trump defended himself by denying the Times report that he had been briefed on the intelligence... But leading congressional Democrats and some Republicans demanded a response to Russia that, according to officials, the administration has yet to authorize.”

Instead of stopping Putin from offering the bounties, Trump shut down every US airbase in Afghanistan except one (there were about a dozen), intentionally crippling incoming President Biden’s ability to extract US assets from that country in an orderly fashion.

Today, Republicans — particularly House Foreign Affairs Committee Chairman Michael McCaul (R-TX) and committee members Cory Mills (R-FL) and Michael Lawler (R-NY) — have used the resulting chaos and associated American and Afghan deaths as a political club to beat up President Biden.

Trump also took an axe to the Voice of America — an institution viscerally hated by Putin for half a century — appointing a rightwing hack and friend of Steve Bannon’s to run the organization, who promptly fired the heads of Radio Free Europe, Radio Liberty and Radio Free Asia and shifted their coverage away from defense of democracies. According to The Washington Post:

“He ousted the diplomats and media professionals on oversight boards and replaced them with low-level Trumpists from other government agencies. … “Having driven off the American media professionals at VOA, Pack went after the more than 70 foreign journalists who work for the organization, refusing to support the renewal of their U.S. visas as they came up. He claimed to be acting for security reasons and insinuated, on no evidence, that some of the staff were spies. … Now, they are being forced to repatriate, in some cases at personal risk. A VOA report in late August said 15 were returning home and another 20 had visas that will expire by the end of the year. “They weren’t Pack’s only targets. He attempted to fire the board and cut off the funding of the Open Technology Fund, an organization that supports Internet freedom initiatives, such as tools to circumvent firewalls. A court blocked the firings, but the fund was forced to suspend 49 of its 60 projects. Among those affected were journalists and activists resisting government crackdowns in Hong Kong and in Belarus.”

The damage to the Voice of America continues to this day as most of Trump’s people are still there; just three months ago, The Hill ran an article titled “Putin’s influencers? Why is taxpayer-funded VOA spreading his propaganda?”

But Putin’s efforts at irregular warfare against the United States have extended far beyond his apparent manipulation of Donald Trump to betray spies and kneecap American anti-fascist propaganda programs.

The Irregular Warfare Center was created within the US Department of Defense in 2021 by Congress; in their January 23, 2024 report “Russian Information Warfare Strategy: New IWC Translation Gives Insights into Vulnerabilities” they show how Putin’s efforts have had considerable success recruiting average Americans within the US. For example, as one of hundreds of Putin’s early efforts to help Donald Trump become president, they note that the year of Trump’s election:

“On 21 May 2016, two protest groups faced off in Houston near an Islamic cultural center to demonstrate competing opinions on Texas’ future. Both groups, one which was protesting the perceived Islamization of Texas, and the other in support of the Islamic community, had been organized on Facebook pages. At first glance, this seemed like a normal and innocuous part of the U.S. political process. “Unbeknownst to most participants, however, both Facebook pages had been created by Russian actors seeking to exacerbate political discord in the United States. This event was not an isolated case; it was a part of a coordinated effort by Russia to meddle in the U.S. elections, both in the social media space and in the physical domain.”

Another example was the promotion of Putin’s assertion the month before he invaded Ukraine in February, 2022 that the US and Ukraine were running bioweapon labs in that besieged nation. As NBC Newsreported in March, 2022 as the invasion was moving ahead full steam:

“Boosted by far-right influencers on the day of the invasion, an anonymous QAnon Twitter account titled @WarClandestine pushed the “biolabs” theory to new heights… “Much of the false information [about the alleged biolabs] is flourishing in Russian social media, far-right online spaces and U.S. conservative media, including Tucker Carlson’s show on Fox News.”

When viewed in context, Putin’s successes at irregular warfare against the United States, designed to tear our society apart, have been quite breathtaking.

During the summer of 2020, as Trump and Biden were squaring off for the election that year, in the small Oregon town of Klamath Falls about 200 locals showed up downtown with guns, baseball bats, and whatever other weapons they could find around the house. They were in the streets to fight off the busloads of Black Antifa marauders they believed Jewish billionaire George Soros had paid to put on a bus in Portland and was sending their way.

Of course, George Soros had done no such thing and there were no busloads of Black people. But the warnings were all over the Klamath Falls Facebook group, and, it turns out, similar Facebook groups for small towns all over America, apparently as part of another Russian disinformation effort.

From coast to coast that weekend white residents of small towns showed up in their downtown areas with guns, rifles, hammers, and axes prepared to do battle with busloads of Black people being sent into their small white towns by George Soros.

In the tiny town of Forks, Washington, frightened white people brought out chainsaws and cut down trees to block the road leading to their town. In South Bend, Indiana police were overwhelmed by 911 calls from frightened white people wanting to know when the “Antifa buses” were arriving. And in rural Luzern County, Pennsylvania, the local neighborhood social media group warned people that busloads of Black people were “organizing to riot and loot.”

Similar stories played out that weekend from Danville, California to Jacksonville, Florida, as documented by NBC News. It was both a successful test of using social media to create mass panic among credulous Trump followers and, perhaps, a planning session for the violence ABC News documents Trump is trying to gin up if he loses this fall.

One of Putin’s greatest recent IW successes came last July when Federal District Judge Terry Doughty, a hard-right Trump appointee, blocked federal agencies from informing social media companies about Russian and other efforts to spread disinformation on their platforms. In March of this year four Republicans on the Supreme Court granted cert and the case was heard; we’re awaiting the ruling which could come any day.

The issue may be moot: Russia is now moving their efforts to promote Trump and encourage civil strife in the US away from their own trolls posing as Americans, now using instead Trump-aligned US-citizens and congressional Republican influencers.

These include using rightwing media commentators, average citizens active on social media, and even members of Congress who’ve bought into Russian propaganda from issues around Ukraine to vaccines to the alleged theft of the 2020 election (and “planned theft” of 2024). As the Irregular Warfare Centernotes:

“[F]uture Russian foreign-targeted OIEs [Operations in the Information Environment] appear to be shifting toward proxy operations, including semi-independent and strategically-chosen influencers on social media, rather than using a directly-controlled team of professionals, as was the case in 2016 with Yevgeny Prigozhin’s “troll factory” that worked to interfere in the U.S. elections.”

This possibility of Trump (and thus Putin) seizing control of US intelligence agencies should he be elected is freaking out former senior U.S. intelligence officials. The headline at Raw Story says it all: “Intel officials 'very concerned' about Trump's intentions for spy agencies.”

The simple reality is that Russia has been using IW techniques in Putin’s war against America — particularly in his efforts to reinstall Trump in the White House — for over a decade and those efforts are now being amplified on a daily basis by Republicans in Congress, rightwing media outlets, and some of our largest social media companies.

With the ability of our government to work with social media and news outlets to combat Putin’s irregular warfare handicapped, and the possibility that Republicans in Congress and on the Supreme Court will further handcuff the Biden Administration’s efforts, the possibility increases that Russia’s useful idiots could succeed in helping Trump prevail this November.

And the election season is now just beginning. Buckle up: to paraphrase Trump’s invitation to January 6th, this is going to get wild.

READ: Liberals are being way too cynical about Trump's conviction

[aprilflowers2040]

While I said in a previous post, I'd talk about my trip to Israel, I feel it's necessary to dive into issues when it comes to aspects of the Pro-Palestinian movement. So consider this as me swapping around parts 2 and 3.

While a majority of people in the movement are in it with the best of intentions, it shouldn't be ignored that there are those within it that are there for less then pure reasons. For starters, while not as prevalent as in the Pro-Israel, there have been neo-Nazis who have decided that their islamophobia and Arab-based xenophobia is secondary to their hatred of Jewish people.

I re-posted a video before talking about the subject so I will re-blog it after this is posted. In summary, it's how genuine anger towards the Likud led government of Israel is co-opted in certain circles to sneak in classic antisemitic talking points, such as Jewish people controlling the media, that the Jewish Diaspora and Israel are to be conflated with one another, by both antisemites, and extreme Zionists.

this goes into my next point, that there are those who proclaim support for Palestine, yet downplay the religious, ethnic and historical connections Jewish people have to the region in order to justify their own viewpoints, that extend to a denial of any nation-state representation. While I'm more for unity unless under certain circumstances, unfortunately, we live in a post-Balfour world, so we deal with the cards dealt. However, I digress.

Back to the matter of weaponized Pro-Palestinian elements. A trend I notice with far too much frequency in posts proclaiming Pro-Palestine is "Death to Israel" or referring to Israel as "IsNotReal" or "Israhell". This isn't even with any effort on my part, but seems to be baked into elements of the Pro-Palestine fringe. This is troubling given the above mentioned conflation of Jews and Israel. It seems downright hypocritical for people like this profess a desire to recognize Palestinian statehood, which it rightfully deserves and is now receiving, while denying Israel's own existence. While Likad propaganda isn't exactly in short supply on social media ,see the litany of porn bots on Tumblr and Twitter, there has also been enough disinformation from people who support Palestine that it should raise eyebrows. For example, footage of people in Ben Gurion Airport which was used to proclaim that people were fleeing back to places like the United States and that they were settlers, when in reality it was people returning home from Passover celebrations. However, it's not only those on the far-right that are spreading falsehoods. There are those in left-wing circles that ascribe to a "West = bad" mentality. While this isn't entirely wrong, as Western governments, including and especially the United States, have used their power for their own selfish interests, the views of Tankies are so black and white, that it borders on pure brain rot. This especially is apparent in their contrasting feelings when it comes to places like China and Russia compared to Israel. Each is currently enacting genocide, with China's CCP against the Uyghur people, Russia's Putin against the Russian queer population and the people of Ukraine, and of course Israel's Likud government on the Palestinians. However, while Tankies are quick to decry Israeli crimes, they remain slavishly loyal and excusatory about the crimes of Russia and China because they aren't "western powers" (looking at you, Hasanabi. Check out Lonerbox's videos on him and his Russian dick riding), which basically results in cutting your nose to spite your face, or in this case supporting one group of authoritarians to spite another group of authoritarians. Thus it extends to apologia towards Hamas and the actions of Palestinian groups both past and present, that used outright terrorism to get what they wanted. If these same people support Palestinian independence while preciously saying that Ukraine should kowtow to Russia's own territorial invasions, turn and run for the hills.

Which brings me to Hamas and previous Palestinian leaderships. Oh God, where do I even start. Firstly, I should clarify that I believe that armed resistance isn't an inherently bad thing. There are times where it's the only solution remaining. However, what you do with it can still be judged, and in this case, Palestinian "liberation" groups have shown a far too common trend of targeting civilian populations such as what happened on Oct.7th. It would be one thing if it was on military or government spaces, yet these actions on civilians screams of utter cowardice on the parts of Hamas. While both the IDF and Hamas have done these things, I've only noticed the IDF being called out, and although their blatant disregard for life should be decried, it's troubling how identical behavior by Hamas and other Palestinian leadership has been swept under the rug for the sake of "support". Hamas has its origins in the Muslim Brotherhood which is a very ultra-orthodox sect of Islam that has multiple bigoted aspects to it which include antisemitism, which Hamas inherited from its parent movement after separating, that wasn't "officially" removed until 2017 (I have their manifesto linked above twice just to be sure of any inconstancies given these are translations.). As for previous incidents, the Munich terrorist attack of 1972, where a combined group of the Palestinian extremist group Black September alongside West German Neo-Nazis killed eleven Israeli Olympics athletes and coaches. While it has been weaponized for darker purposes, it should be noted that while the Palestinian factions had every right to be upset by the destruction of their communities which was what led to this event, their way of dealing with it was horrifically misplaced.

For those who say that Hamas doesn't represent all Palestinians, then you are correct. They don't. They were elected in 2006 before a large portion of Palestine's current population were even born, and yet here they must suffer because the leaders they never elected, chose to break a ceasefire and murder 1,200 people and kidnap 240 more, that opened the gates of Hell upon them from an equally genocidal government with a trigger happy military, and a civilian population primed by 2,000 years of exile and (understandable) generational trauma at the hands of multiple countries and empires, mixed with propaganda and exposure to only the worst of Palestinian society in the form of terrorism to explode in anger with zero consideration for the innocent. That being said, there are Israelis and Jews who support Palestinian struggles that also point out that the Likud don't represent them either, yet those of bad faith are willing to blind themselves to this fact.

This went on longer then I meant it to, if I'm being honest. I wish this was more put together, but this was something I feel I needed to talk about. Still, for those wishing to learn more, I've linked to other sources that are more articulate. For now, I leave it here. Next time, I will get to my critiques of Israel outside of its "relationship" with Palestine.

I just want this to end. I want things to heal. All we can do is take action however we can, and cling onto hope for those who are gone, and those who continue on.

[thenuclearmallard]

I fled Putin’s Russia for Canada. It opened my eyes.

Canada showed me the importance of Indigenous rights. Now I want the same for Indigenous people in Russia.

Nikolay ZyuzevJanuary 3, 2023

Inspired by Canada's reckoning with its colonial past, Nikola Zyuzev is developing projects to support Russia's Indigenous communities targeted by the Putin regime (Photo courtesy semnasem.org)

I decided to leave Vladimir Putin’s Russia—the first time—in 2006. And though it’s almost impossible to imagine now, people at home and around the world that year were applauding the Russian president’s successes. Russia had just hosted a G8 summit and signed a deal with the U.S. which eventually allowed it to join the World Trade Organization. Oil and gas profits were up, the economy was booming and Russians were enjoying middle-class luxuries—cafés, restaurants, vacations—that people in the West take for granted. 

But as a social and political philosopher, it’s my job to look beyond the glittery surface, and it wasn’t hard to see signs of rot. Russia’s state-controlled gas monopoly, Gazprom, had cut off supplies to Ukraine over price disagreements, demonstrating the Kremlin’s willingness to use energy as a geopolitical weapon. Tensions with Georgia were rising as the former Soviet Republic butted heads with Putin by developing closer ties with the West. 

And Putin and his supporters were growing bolder and less tolerant of dissent at home. In October, the brutal assassination of journalist Anna Politkovskaya was a chilling warning to whose who dared to criticize the regime. Politkovskaya had become famous for criticism of Putin, and for her sympathetic reporting from Chechnya, which during the Soviet era had existed as an autonomous ethnic republic within the Soviet Union. After the fall of the USSR, Chechens demanded their freedom, sparking years of brutal conflict with Russia.

Politkovskaya’s murder was a warning to dissidents, and the crushing of the Chechen uprising was a warning to members of Russia’s Indigenous and ethnic minorities. I was both. I’m from the Komi minority, a Finno-Ugric people whose own republic, with a population of nearly one million, lies 1,000 kilometres northwest of Moscow. The Komi people have a distinct language and culture dating back at least two millennia, but under Putin’s rule, we face cultural and linguistic extinction. Like all of Russia’s nearly two dozen republics and four autonomous districts, the Komi Republic is supposed to have some degree of autonomy; in practice, it has none.

I didn’t want to live in a nation tumbling headlong toward fascism—and I definitely didn’t want my daughter growing up in one. I applied to Canada for permanent residency, and in July 2009, I left for Toronto. In 2015, I became a Canadian citizen.

During those years, I watched from a distance as all my worst fears about my homeland materialized. Just months before I left Russia, a radical priest named Kirill—a Putin ally—became patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church. Likely under Putin’s orders, he began delivering sermons glorifying the “Russian World,” an idealized ethnic Russian homeland populated by true Christians fighting an onslaught of Western decadence. It goes without saying that this worldview left no room for communities like mine to exist with any degree of self-determination—instead, they were to be assimilated into Putin’s monolithic vision of Russia.

In Canada, these developments hit unusually close to my new home. When I arrived, Canada was struggling with its own relationship to its colonial past, and the crimes committed against Indigenous people in this country. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was hard at work investigating the residential school system, which bore striking similarities to an attempt in Russia to erase the Nenets people in the country’s far north between the 1950s and 1970s: children were forcibly removed from their families to be “re-educated” in Soviet schools, where they were abused and many died. Russians don’t talk about that past anymore—any mention of it would almost certainly mean imprisonment. Canada, by contrast, had struck up a national conversation about redressing these evils, and I was amazed by the willingness of so many Canadians to confront this dark past with honesty. 

My experiences in Canada planted a seed. Would it be possible for ethnic Russians to wake up to their imperialist past and own up to the damage done to Indigenous peoples who lived on the lands they now occupied? Was reconciliation possible within the so-called Russian World? It if was, could I help make it happen? 

In 2015, I was asked to lead a new research centreat the Pitirim Sorokin Syktyvkar State University—right in my hometown of Syktyvkar, the capital of the Komi Republic.

How could I say no? My daughter had grown into a remarkable teenager who excelled in her new Canadian life, but my marriage had unravelled, and I was having no luck breaking into Canada’s tough academic job market. Despite my reservations about what was happening in Russia, I couldn’t pass up a chance get back into the classroom with students and reinvigorate my scholarly career. The research centre’s mandate involved forging new relationships with scholars in Europe, North America and elsewhere. It felt like a way to push back against Putin’s parochial vision of Russia’s future. 

But soon after arriving back in Russia in July 2015I realized just how unbearable things had become—and it was the attitude to Indigenous and other ethnic communities that was most disturbing. Rather than moving closer to the Canadian model of engagement and conversation that had inspired such optimism in me, things had gone in the opposite direction. People accepted official propaganda almost unquestioningly. Most cheered on Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea, in southern Ukraine, as a legitimate exercise of power, to bring back to Russia what belonged to it. And animosity toward the Western world had grown—increasingly, people were convinced that the West wanted to destroy Russia. It was impossible to debate any of these claims; even university colleagues would simply claim I’d been “fooled” by American propaganda.

The idea of making an impact as a scholar looked remote. I still found solace in the classroom—most of my students were immune to official propaganda and interested in my firsthand experience in the west. They were my main moral support throughout that seven-year stint in Syktyvkar. But the oppressive weight of Putin’s Potemkin nation eventually became too much to bear. 

So in the fall of 2021, I approached two friends—one a sociologist and retired politician, the other a linguist studying the Komi language—and brought to them a radical new idea: to establish an online Finno-Ugric University. It would offer high-quality social sciences education to Komi youth, help them think more critically and, importantly, raise awareness about the injustices suffered by the Komi people.

Courtesy semnasem.org

While we were trying to find funding, Leonid Zilberg, a Jewish businessman and advocate of minority rights in Russia, suggested that we collaborate with his online magazine, 7×7, and expand the project to include all of Russia’s minority groups. Zilberg had fought against rising antisemitism for years in Russia, and he founded 7×7in 2010 to tell the stories of Russia’s minorities. 

Our project got an extra boost of urgency after the invasion of Ukraine last year. Leonid and his staff at 7×7were forced to relocate to Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital, after Putin announced a new law punishing anyone who questioned the war with up to 15 years in jail. It was already obvious to me and my colleagues that launching the project inside Russia was impossible—we’d never get a licence for it, and if by some miracle we did, we would instantly be labelled a “separatist” organization and jailed. 

Putin’s newest crackdowns made it even more obvious that self-imposed exile was the only option, so in May of 2022, I boarded a flight to Istanbul, one of the few cities still accepting air travel from Russia. From there I headed to Vilnius, joining Leonid and his team.

Since then, Leonid and I have been travelling throughout Europe raising awareness—and money—for what we’re tentatively calling the Indigenous Russia Information and Education Center. We sense an opportunity in the aftermath of Putin’s disastrous invasion of Ukraine: Indigenous peoples have been disproportionately affected by the war, both on the battlefield and as conscripts to Russia’s army. Minority groups in the republics are waking anew to the threat the Kremlin poses. Our hope is that demands for decolonization will become stronger, and the Kremlin will lose its grip on the republics. There may be a rare window of opportunity now to change the conversation in Russia—one we can’t waste.

I know that in Canada, the fight for Indigenous rights is far from over, and abuses and racism are still part of daily life for many Indigenous people. But the scope of legal rights Indigenous peoples have achieved—governing their ancestral lands, compensation for natural resources, financial support from the government, official apologies for past injustices—is simply unthinkable in Russia. I look at the resurgence of Indigenous peoples in Canada and wonder what might be possible at home. And I look at my daughter, who has completed a master’s degree and now works for the Canada Revenue Agency. What would her life be if we hadn’t left?

She was lucky, and so was I. But millions of people belonging to ethnic and Indigenous groups in my homeland are suffering. Their languages and cultures are being wiped out by a regime that believes diversity is a threat, that it must absorb and assimilate anything that’s different. In less than two decades I’ve watched my country throw away a seemingly bright future to become a warmongering global pariah. The only way to course-correct now is to repudiate Putin’s vision, and to embrace the diversity and vitality of its many peoples. 

—As told to Adnan Khan

[naturalrights-retard]

“But these weren’t the kind of monsters that had tentacles and rotting skin, the kind a seven-year-old might be able to wrap his mind around—they were monsters with human faces, in crisp uniforms, marching in lockstep, so banal you don’t recognize them for what they are until it’s too late.” ― Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

Enough already.

Enough with the distractions. Enough with the partisan jousting.

Enough with the sniping and name-calling and mud-slinging that do nothing to make this country safer or freer or more just.

We have let the government’s evil-doing, its abuses, power grabs, brutality, meanness, inhumanity, immorality, greed, corruption, debauchery and tyranny go on for too long.

We are approaching a reckoning.

This is the point, as the poet W. B. Yeats warned, when things fall apart and anarchy is loosed upon the world.

We have seen this convergence before in Hitler’s Germany, in Stalin’s Russia, in Mussolini’s Italy, and in Mao’s China: the rise of strongmen and demagogues, the ascendency of profit-driven politics over deep-seated principles, the warring nationalism that seeks to divide and conquer, the callous disregard for basic human rights and dignity, and the silence of people who should know better.

Yet no matter how many times the world has been down this road before, we can’t seem to avoid repeating the deadly mistakes of the past.

This is not just playing out on a national and international scale. It is wreaking havoc at the most immediate level, as well, creating rifts and polarities within families and friends, neighborhoods and communities that keep the populace warring among themselves and incapable of presenting a united front in the face of the government’s goose-stepping despotism.

We labor today under the weight of countless tyrannies, large and small, disguised as “the better good,” marketed as benevolence, enforced with armed police, and carried out by an elite class of government officials who are largely insulated from the ill effects of their actions.

[wayoftomorrow]

PREVIOUS ERA (09' Focused)

I. Snowlands

Born to Elise Yofi and Orlando Kismera in the icy snowlands of Siberia, Russia, Arisa Kismera was the couple's only second child after their miscarriage of their first unborn. Elise Yofi was the only daughter of a line of scientists while Orlando was the oldest child in the knight lineage of Kismeras, the two met and fell in love while working at Siegfield Experimental Labs - a governmental laboratory used to research on the emerging new phenomenon known as 'The rot'. Arisa was known to be a bright, ambiguous child adored by the village as a daughter who took on the most prominent traits of her parents . Unfortunately, Arisa would lose her father during an expedition mission to capture rot beasts to be experimented on at the facility, leading Elise to resign to take care of Arisa full-time.

Things continued to take a turn for the worse after the first Cleanse took place, reducing the snow village Arisa lived in to rubbles and subsequently killing Elise who gave her life to protect her daughter. 2 days after the incident, a young woman named Athena, living a few kilometers away from the village took a trip down to the ruins to inspect the aftermath of the cleansing only to find a barely alive Arisa hidden underneath the remains of her home. Athena took Arisa under her wing at her lone cabin out of care, raising her as her own child and teaching her the necessities of surviving alone. After the cleansing, Arisa was completely devastated and struggled to feel emotions after in which Athena notices and tries her best to guide her through her recovery.

Tragedy would strike again 6 years later when Arisa was 13, Athena lost her life fighting an awakened Sovereign while scavenging the snow lands in preparation for an incoming blizzard. The lonely young girl waited with hope that Athena would return to their cabin. Her patience finally fizzled out on the 3rd day of the blizzard when the cabin's source of firewood was depleted, leaving Arisa huddling for warmth in a corner of the dark cabin with frostbites all over her body. After the blizzard, Arisa had lost all sense of direction in her life but her time during the blizzard had toughen her resolve to live, using her knowledge of the wilderness and trusty axe, she would began slowly adapting to the harshness all on her own.

The Siberian winters are relentless and long, warmth is short-lived and food is scarce. The young lady had to resort to killing, looting and cannibalizing her fellow humans successfully keeping her resources in check. Through this endless cycle, she had racked up a total body count of 43 in a year's time. Rumors began spreading about an orange-eyed white tiger that roamed the specific plains hunting humans. One such organisation, Taxodium, decided that enough lives were lost it was finally time to put the 'beast's' rampage to an end.

II. Taxodium and Heralders

After the end of the next blizzard, Taxodium sent [06] Heralder Richard Shawl and a team of 5 men to the location. Within a span of a few hours, the Heralder spots Arisa who was preoccupied with transporting a body and successfully sedates her after a one-sided shuffle between the two.

Arisa was eventually transported to the Taxodium headquarters, to the surprise of everyone, the Siberian killer was neither beast nor crazed murderer but instead an obedient young child. Many shelter-seekers began discussing about what would happen to the child as she was quietly led through the cold corridors. One senior heralder, [5] Kallia Emerald took the initiative to welcome the girl to the underground bunker, he got onto the same height as the 14-year-old girl and began asking her questions to which the child gave cold short replies to.

The officials of Taxodium decided to temporarily house Arisa in their direct orphanage as they continued with discussions of what to do with the young girl. The caretakers of the orphanage were originally concerned with the girl's antisocial behaviors as she opted to spend her time by herself as the other children were fearful of her. Thankfully, the caretakers were relieved when she began warming up to [06] Richard during his occasional visits to the orphanage.

Eventually, the officials of Taxodium came to a final decision: They would pardon Arisa of her murders as long as she agrees to undergo an experimental surgery to become a SEED (Synthetic Evolution and Enhanced Deployment) and Heralder, with [04] Kallia Emerald as her mentor. The SEED surgery was a success largely due to Arisa's existing resistance towards Rot energy though it resulted in the detriment of her mental health. The young lady had to undergo the surgery without any anesthetics in order for the surgery, thus forcing her to be in immense pain during its duration. Arisa spent a week after the surgery holed up in her room due to the intense stress she experienced. Fortunately, with the support of [04] and [06], Arisa made a full recovery, successfully joining the ranks of the Heralders the following spring as [09].

Despite this, the topic of Arisa becoming a Heralders was a heavily debated topic. A majority of shelter-seekers felt that Heralders were supposed to be humanity's ultimate weapon against the rot, beacons of light in desperate times. Having a murderer be pardoned and becoming a Heralder felt unreasonable to them who had placed their full trust in the Heralders for protection.

Kallia Emerald continued to teach Arisa the way of the weapons despite the protests he received from the common people, in a way he had felt bad that a child as young as young as her had to endure so much grief and pain. Kallia was a consistent mentor who always looked out for Arisa, pushing her to her limits to reach her potential. To his dismay, the higher ups would interject their training to put Arisa in life or death situations just to achieve the greatest potential a SEED born from special circumstances would offer. Kallia was powerless to the commands of the higher ups and was forced to watch from the sidelines as Arisa struggled for her life.

Kallia had also decided to take another new Heralder under his wing - a blond haired boy few years younger than Arisa named, 'Lan'. The two were often seen carrying out their day to day lives together and childishly bickering, their interactions in the eyes of others had humanized the two young Heralder. With Kallia around, many felt that they were like a little family.

However, with the addition of Lan to the Heralders, it became apparent that Arisa was being discriminated and outcast by the other members. Most of the other Heralders treated Arisa coldly yet were seen getting along with Lan. It was also noted that Arisa was also treated more poorly than her fellow members, from having certain information withheld from her to not receiving essential armory before missions. Arisa went out of her way to try to get along with her fellow Heralders but with minimal success.

Meanwhile the rot was beginning to mutate more unpredictably, birthing more sovereigns and leading to the second Cleanse. With the second cleanse came two new additions to the Heralder rankings, [11] LuHe and [12] Asvin. Arisa would also finally receive her personal Nihilismi weapon — an axe capable of reaching both extremes of temperature, causing detrimental damage in blazing heat and frozen debris, 'Wilting Snow'. While training with Wilting Snow, Arisa had her first meeting with [12] Asvin. The two became close friends fast as [12] Asvin confided in Arisa about her troubles and shared many common traits in their unique pasts.

Through the 2 years, humanity's battle against the rot became grim fast. By the end of the seventh Cleansing, many were sure that the Taxodium headquarters was the last human sanctuary left. The end was nigh. With so little hope left, many shelter-seekers chose to take their life rather than wait until the Rot gets to them. The smell of blood and death engulfed the hallways of the shelter. With hope beginning to fizzle out, [12] Asvin somberly took her life by hanging in her designated room. [10] Lan was first to find the body yet attempted to dissuade Arisa from finding it but ultimately failed.

The death of Asvin emotionally scarred Arisa, causing her to becoming emotionally withdrawn again. An official funeral could not be held to honor the fallen SEED but new of her death had spread far and wide. It was only days after when the heads of Taxodium had declared it to be the end of the world, humanity has fallen but have not given up, it was time for them to pull their final trick: To preserve every remaining SEED, sending them into the next era of humans to aid them in eradicating the Rot for good - Project Preservation

Cyro pods were dispersed into two different locations - One few kilometers south from main headquarters with 10 pods and another thousands of kilometers in the other continent with only 2 pods. Since Asvin had passed, Richard would be the only one spending his time at the second location. He bid farewell to his fellow SEEDs before embarking on his long journey to rest.

In the final days of humanity, Kallia reassures his two disciples that everything would be alright when they woke up;giving them his faith that they would be able to exterminate the rot and finally know peace after years of wars. Arisa, drained and exhausted nodded silently. Yes, everything will be different in the next life. I will be free of this suffering.

One day.

III. New World

Arisa dreamt of a grand blue sea, her body weightless in its being omniscient might. As aquatic life flowed freely in its glory, she wonders if this tranquility is what she had always wanted. Before she could ponder any longer, Arisa began choking, the shock jolted her body awake from slumber as she realised that she was drowning in the cyropod fluid. Desperate to escape, Arisa punches her way out of the pod simultaneously reducing it to nothing but rubble.

She wonders about what had happened with her pod but remembered that protocol states that every SEED would be assembling soon after waking up. She dresses herself, bagging every weapon and necessities she might need, her footsteps echoed down the hallways as the girl soaks the unfamiliar peace in the air wondering about how her mentor and Lan was fairing now.

Only to find out that she was the only one awake when she arrived at the central hub.

A robotic female voice sounds from behind her, specifically from an overhead screen. The entity introduces itself as, 'Godmother' — a sentient AI created by Taxodium researchers to guide the SEEDs in their journey, she asks Arisa why she was awake 1000 years before the set awakening time. Arisa panics hearing this. She was a whole millennium early? Godmother sensing the fear in her voice calms her down and offers her a solution, why not help her fellow SEEDs to gather materials and resources that could help them on her journey. Arisa agrees with her sentiment, Godmother guides Arisa to a table displaying watches assigned to every SEED. Godmother explains to Arisa that the watches was a tool that allowed them to carry Godmother's AI with them wherever they went so they could be constantly guided by her. The watches were primarily powered by rot energy and thus do not need to be charged.

Through this arrangement, Godmother guided Arisa for the next 10 years, teaching her how to scavenge and hunt while mapping and sourcing information to understand the thriving new lands. She would always return to the shelter with bundles of flowers for each of the members as well as newly discovered items she would place in front of the pods of her mentor and fellow disciple to 'show' them her new found treasure. At the same time, Arisa, with the help and guidance of Godmother, managed to construct a small sized housing miles away from headquarters on a mountain near the first sparks of civilization. Effectively calling it her new home and a perfect place to train and learn whilst waiting for the others to wake.

Things took a turn when the Rot of the new era also began to arise a decade after, its arrival was marked by a heavy storm spanning a whole continent, ravaging the lands with unnatural clouds and fearsome thunder. Arisa came to the rescue of the budding civilization during this tumultuous time, eventually being heralded as a hero and a guardian.

IV. Before the storm

V. Radiant changes

VI. Dome, Present day

[colorfulfishbreeds]

Unlocking the Secrets of Blue Moscow Guppies: A Deep Dive into Aquatic Elegance!

Hey there, fellow aquarists and fish enthusiasts! Today, we're about to unravel the fascinating world of Blue Moscow Guppies – those delightful aquatic treasures that can infuse your aquarium with a burst of color and charm. So, gear up with your snorkels; we're in for an exciting journey!

Discovering Blue Moscow Guppies

Unveiling Beauty: Picture Blue Moscow Guppies as living jewels gracing your aquarium. These pint-sized marvels showcase vibrant blue tones, reminiscent of the glistening Moscow River. With sleek bodies and fins resembling delicate butterfly wings, they're a sight to behold.

Social Butterflies: Recognized for their vibrant personalities, Blue Moscow Guppies are not just swimmers; they're social beings. Their lively interactions with other tank mates make them a joy to observe.

Varieties Showcase: Explore standout varieties like the "Sapphire Splash" with intense, star-like metallic blue, and the "Cerulean Dream" portraying a softer, sky-blue akin to a clear summer day.

Insights into General Information

Russian Roots: These dazzling guppies hail from the Moscow region in Russia, their name echoing their origins.

Compact Size: Typically growing to a modest 1.5 to 2.5 inches when fully matured.

Longevity: With proper care, anticipate a lifespan of 2 to 3 years, though under ideal conditions, they might exceed expectations.

Peaceful Companions: Renowned for their peace-loving nature, Blue Moscow Guppies thrive in community tanks, harmonizing with other non-aggressive fish.

Visual Appeal: Their captivating appearance is defined by shimmering blue hues and mesmerizing metallic scales that beautifully reflect light.

Colorful Palette: Dive into a spectrum of shades, from "Royal Blue" to "Steel Blue" and "Electric Blue," each offering a unique touch to the mesmerizing blue theme.

Pricing Palette: Prices range from $5 to $20 per fish, influenced by factors such as color, pattern, and breeder reputation.

Creating the Perfect Habitat

Native Habitat: Originating from slow-moving freshwater bodies, Blue Moscow Guppies favor environments with abundant plants and hiding spots.

Adequate Space: Optimal living conditions call for a minimum tank size of 10 gallons, ensuring comfort and well-being.

Balanced Environment: Maintain slightly alkaline water with pH levels between 7.0 to 7.5. Keep the temperature in the range of 72°F to 82°F, coupled with regular water changes and effective filtration.

Natural Setup: Mimic their native surroundings with live or artificial plants, driftwood, and smooth substrates like sand or gravel. Offer hiding spots using decorations to create a secure habitat.

Savoring the Blue Moscow Guppy Diet

Omnivorous Delights: Blue Moscow Guppies relish a mix of plant and animal-based foods. Serve up a diet of high-quality flakes, pellets, and freeze-dried treats like brine shrimp, daphnia, and bloodworms to keep them vibrant and healthy.

Feeding Rituals: Watch these enthusiastic eaters eagerly swim to the surface at mealtime. Provide small portions multiple times a day to ensure they consume all the food within a couple of minutes.

Top 5 Foods:

Navigating the Breeding Grounds

Livebearer Legacy: Blue Moscow Guppies follow the livebearing reproductive strategy, giving birth to live fry rather than laying eggs. Males court females with vibrant displays, leading to the release of fully formed fry into the water.

Breeding Success: To encourage breeding, maintain optimal water conditions, ensure a higher ratio of females to males, and provide hiding spots for fry to escape potential predation.

Spawning Serenade: Breeding rituals involve vibrant displays by males, followed by mating and the release of fully formed fry by females into the water.

Tackling Common Health Concerns

Proactive Measures: Though hardy, Blue Moscow Guppies can face health issues like fin rot, ich, and parasites. Preventive measures include maintaining clean water conditions, quarantining new fish, and offering a balanced diet.

Navigating Special Considerations

Peaceful Cohabitation: Blue Moscow Guppies gel well with peaceful tankmates like Neon Tetras, Harlequin Rasboras, and Corydoras Catfish.

Care Guidelines: Regular water testing and maintenance are paramount for their health and longevity.

Stay Legal: Be aware of local regulations concerning ownership and breeding practices.

Decoding Male vs. Female Distinctions

Colorful Dazzle: Males flaunt vibrant blue hues and a slender body shape.

Feminine Elegance: Females are slightly larger, rounder, with a less intense blue coloration.

In Conclusion

In a nutshell, while Blue Moscow Guppies share commonalities with other guppy varieties, their vibrant blue hues, Russian origin, and selective breeding focus set them apart. As you dive into the captivating world of aquariums, these enchanting guppies are sure to elevate your aquatic experience. Happy fish-keeping!

[hardynwa]

Ineffective panic reactions to coups in Africa

AT the last count, seven African countries had recently fallen back into military dictatorship after some experimentation with the democratic model of governance. With the exception of Gabon, the others- Guinea, Mali, Chad, Niger, Sudan, and Burkina Faso – are in the Sahel, sub-Saharan Africa region. This sudden upsurge of military interventions in governance, which started in December 2021, can be called the “Sahel Spring”. It is likened to the “Arab Spring” which sprouted in Tunisia but later sparked revolutions in the Arab world, especially in Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain and Syria.  It led to the overthrow of entrenched dictatorships like those of Muamar Gadaffi and Hosni Mubarak, and the destruction of Syria, where Russia helped prevent the removal of Bashar al-Assad. The Arab Spring sprang from deep rot, corruption, and oppression of the masses. It all started when a street hawker, Mohammed Bouaziz, set himself on fire on January 4, 2011 in Ben Arous after government officials seized his wares. One of the consequences of the Arab Spring was the growth of Boko Haram into the most murderous jihadist terrorism outfit in the world. It is these same conditions of corruption, misrule and leaders serving as puppets of the former colonial master, France, and otherwise independent countries becoming the battleground of world powers that torched off the “Sahel Spring”, which could grow even further. Leaders within the sub-region have taken desperate measures in efforts to stop the bogeyman from knocking on their own doors. The Economic Community of West African States, ECOWAS, quickly mandated their new chairman, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu of Nigeria, to issue an ultimatum for the Niger Republic junta led by General Abdulrahmane Tchiani to restore ousted President Mohamed Bazoum to power. The military takeover in Gabon also forced entrenched dictatorships in Cameroon, Rwanda, Uganda and others to quickly reshuffle their military high commands.  They failed to realise that it is the junior elements in the army that are more liable than the old generals to carry out coups. These panicky measures can never stop military interventions or force those who have already seized power to back down.  Most of the coups are supported by the people because foreign powers prop up the civilian dictators and use them to undercut the sovereignty of its former colonies. Many of them have resorted to changing their countries’ constitutions to enable them stay permanently in office, often with a view to transfering power to their children. It is laughable for ECOWAS to deign to threaten Niger Republic with force in defence of “democracy”, especially when some of these leaders’ democracy credentials are seriously questioned. The lesson here is that even democracy can outlive its usefulness when it no longer serves the people or derives its power from them. Power still belongs to the people. Read the full article